


Five Years Later

by xo_lightsout



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Darcy Lewis-centric, F/M, Grown-up Darcy, Kind-of-a-jerk Steve, angsty angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:42:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4148709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xo_lightsout/pseuds/xo_lightsout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years is a long time. A lot can change. People grow up, move away, get new jobs, learn new skills. But you never really get over that person that broke your heart. </p><p>Darcy and Steve dated for seven months. When things end badly, Darcy disappears for five years. Now she’s coming home again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Homecoming

“Is this your first time?”

Darcy Lewis made a conscious effort to unclench her hand from around what was her third in-flight cocktail. She turned to the elderly woman next to her, a polite yet bland smile on her face. “Excuse me?”

“To New York, dear,” the woman clarified. She nodded past Darcy to the skyline that was just becoming visible as they drifted through a bank of clouds. 

“No,” Darcy replied. “I used to live here.”

“So you’re coming home, then?”

“No,” Darcy repeated. “I’ve been...away, for a while. I’m just back in the city for a friend’s wedding.” 

The pilot announced their descent and flight attendants came round to collect their trash. Darcy tossed back the rest of her drink--mostly vodka and melted ice by this point--and handed over the empty cup. The elderly woman patted Darcy’s wrist. “Homecomings are always difficult,” she acknowledged. 

_You have no idea_ , she thought ruefully before giving the woman a small smile and then turning her head to watch the skyline approach. 

At the gate, Darcy self-consciously smoothed out the wrinkles in her skirt and thought back to the last time she’d been in LaGuardia. She’d left New York a literal mess, with puffy eyes and dirty sweatpants. Now, her hair, while no less curly, was more or less contained with a few well-placed bobby pins and the silk shell she was wearing tucked into her ivory skirt didn’t even have stains on it. She looked like a baby Pepper Potts, only with wider hips and wilder hair. Would anyone even recognize her as the heartbroken twenty-four year old who’d left five years ago? 

As if to answer her question, just on the other side of security she heard someone scream, “Darcy! You’re here!” She only had a few seconds to brace herself before a tiny brunette launched herself into Darcy’s stunned arms. 

“Jane?” Darcy’s voice was muffled by the hair that had flown into her mouth. Jane Foster squealed and squeezed Darcy tighter in confirmation. 

Darcy hugged her back just as enthusiastically. It’d been almost a year since they’d last seen one another. No one else could’ve made Darcy come home; Darcy had missed the last two Lewis family Christmases but she’d bought a plane ticket with less than a week’s notice to be in the US for Jane’s wedding.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here,” Jane exclaimed, a bit breathless, after she’d finally released Darcy. “It took you long enough!”

“Of course I’m here,” Darcy retorted. “You’re getting married! Finally! It took _you_ long enough!”

“Not that long,” Jane protested.

“Two years is a long time to be engaged, Jane,” Darcy argued.

“Funnily enough, Asgardian issues of diplomacy don’t seem to care that I need to reserve a florist no fewer than eight months out,” Jane pointed out. “There just never seemed to be a good time.” 

For the first time Jane really seemed to look at Darcy and abruptly changed the subject. “You look like Pepper.” 

“Pepper is a beautiful, accomplished woman, Jane,” Darcy sniffed. “I take that as a compliment.”

“I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” Jane protested. “It’s just, you don’t look like someone who’d wear handknit beanies and ride around the desert, tasing errant Norse gods.”

“I grew up,” Darcy retorted, her tone more snippy than she’d intended. Jane’s eyebrows rose in surprise and Darcy immediately felt guilty. “Geez, I’m the worst maid of honor ever,” Darcy sighed. “I’m just...on edge. I’m sorry. Also, I left straight from work to make my flight so I’ve been in pantyhose for thirteen hours. Let’s blame it on that.”

Jane smiled sympathetically. “I know you said over the phone that you’d be fine but if-”

Darcy waved her hands, cutting Jane off mid-protest. “Let’s not do this. This is the last time we make things about me. I came home for _your_ wedding. What’s first on the agenda?”

Reminded of the event at hand, Jane groaned. Darcy laughed, took Jane’s arm, and started walking them towards baggage claim. Even if Darcy had changed these past few years, it was comforting to see that Jane hadn’t. 

“It’s not like I’m not grateful to Pepper and Tony for offering to throw us this big party,” Jane explained as they walked, “but if I had it my way, we’d just go down to the courthouse and get it over with.” 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to talk about your wedding that way,” Darcy pointed out. 

Jane ignored her and kept ranting. “So I gave in to the flowers and the caterers and the venue and the guest list but now, now, Pepper is insisting I wear a gown.”

“What’s wrong with a gown?”

“Nothing! It’s what the gown represents! I never thought my wedding would be this much of a production but, every time I start to protest, Pepper makes me feel guilty. ‘It’s the wedding I never got to have, Jane,’” Jane squeaked in a poor imitation of Pepper Potts who had never once squeaked in her entire, composed life. “‘Don’t you trust me, Jane? It hurts that you think I don’t have your best interests in heart.’”

“To be fair,” Darcy pointed out, “to you, a production is anything that keeps you away from your lab for more than twelve hours.”

“I know,” Jane agreed vehemently. “We’ll head down to the Hamptons in the morning to start setting up for the rehearsal and then Saturday the wedding. That’s two whole days!”

“The science will survive,” Darcy reassured her. “Are you taking a honeymoon?”

“In a month. Thor has to go back to Asgard and I’ll go with him. This way, Darce,” Jane corrected as Darcy headed for the line of taxi cabs and Jane went the opposite way. 

“Jane, no offense, but I’m not getting in a car with you. Didn’t they finally revoke your license?”

Jane rolled her eyes. “No need to be so dramatic,” she answered haughtily. “Tony sent a car.”

“Well in that case,” Darcy demured, allowing herself to be led towards the line of sleek black vehicles. Jane seemed to select one at random and climbed in while a chauffeur hurried to stow Darcy’s bags. 

“So why now,” Darcy asked once they were settled in the backseat of the SUV and headed towards Manhattan. “What changed? Not that I wasn’t happy to get the call, but a few weeks notice would’ve been nice.” 

“We just decided there was no point in waiting any more,” Jane shrugged. “We know we want to be together. Life’s too short.” 

Darcy narrowed her eyes at the sappy sentiment, sensing that something more was afoot. Without having to say a word, Jane ducked her head shyly and admitted, “Well, I suppose there was another reason. I was going to tell you later but-”

Darcy didn’t even let her finish her sentence. “No way,” she shouted. “No freaking way!”

Jane beamed and nodded. Darcy lunged forward to hug her but was choked by her seatbelt. She settled for fluttering her fingers around Jane’s abdomen instead. Jane swatted her hands away. “Not you too,” she snapped. “I’m not even a few months along and Thor won’t stop treating me like I’m made of glass. He wants me to give up science, Darce! Science! This does not bode well for the next seven months.”

“Or your honeymoon,” Darcy pointed out with a smirk. Jane rolled her eyes. 

“So tell me everything,” Darcy demanded. She’d shucked her heels and now tucked her feet underneath her, her pantyhose-clad legs sliding smoothly against the tan leather seats. “When did you find out? Who else knows? Why didn’t you tell me over the phone last week?”

“I wanted to tell you in person,” Jane explained. “Not many people know; we only just found out. Bruce was the one who ran the blood work and then, the next thing I know, Tony is throwing an impromptu baby shower in my lab. _He’s_ the one who convinced Thor to have a big wedding in the first place. He gave this rousing speech about celebrations and once-in-a-lifetime opportunities but really he’ll find any excuse to throw a party.”

That Tony was a nosy bastard was not news to Darcy. When Jane and Darcy were still living in London, they had come home from lunch to find Tony poking through Jane’s research in their apartment. He’d seemed nonplussed when Darcy had leveled her taser in his face. He was in town on business, he explained, and interested in meeting Thor’s ladylove. Impressed by what he’d uncovered with his snooping, he had decided to offer Jane a place in his tower back in New York, funding her research through Stark Industries. 

“Funding and lodging,” he added magnanimously, “for you and the intern. Gotta keep it in the family.”

Darcy had loved living in Stark Tower but it came at a cost: in exchange for plush accommodations and an actual wage, Darcy had to put up with his inappropriate comments and constant presence. Even when she wasn’t working, Tony always seemed to be lurking around, bugging Darcy for the latest gossip and begging her to test his riskier inventions. Twice she’d had to grow back her eyebrows. 

When she’d abruptly left New York, he’d taken it personally. After she’d moved into her new flat in London, she’d received a bill for “services rendered” during her time living rent-free in the tower, citing invisible damages and claiming thousands of dollars of 'room service' fees. Stark Tower did not have room service. He would frequently hack Pepper’s email account, sending rude emails (“Dear Ms. Lewis, You are an ungrateful former employee and I’m glad to have you gone. Tony Stark was a saint to have even offered you a job in the first place. Never contact me again. Sincerely, Virginia Pepper Potts”) to Darcy under Pepper’s name. 

Still, when she’d gotten the job in Tokyo, thirteen months after she’d left the States, she’d received a breathtaking, anonymous bouquet of red and gold flowers that filled her entire foyer. It’d be nice to be back, to see Tony, and everyone else, again, even if it was for just a little while. 

Jane chattered about her latest research while Darcy reminisced until she started to notice some of the buildings look familiar. “Jane,” she interrupted. “Where are we headed?”

Jane had the grace to look sheepish. “It’s just for tonight,” Jane hastened to explain. “I know you said you’d stay at a hotel but that’s a dumb idea. You never come home anymore and if I only get you for seventy-two hours before you jet off again then you better believe I’m going to make the most of it. Besides, you don’t even have to stay on the regular, housing floor: Pepper is hosting a final fitting/bachelorette night in the penthouse. No boys allowed.”

“Jane,” Darcy soothed, “it’s fine, I’m fine. I’m going to have to see him at the wedding anyways, right? I’m assuming he was invited?”

“Everyone was invited,” Jane answered carefully, not entirely believing Darcy’s blase attitude. “And, as far as I know, everyone is attending. But we could always fake a last minute emergency, un-invite certain people. On the phone you said you were fine but if-”

Darcy waved her hand, dismissing the topic. “Let’s not do this,” she insisted. “I said I was fine so I’m fine. I can take the normal, civilian elevator, there will be no sneaking. I’m an adult now.”

Jane gave her a warm smile and squeezed her hand. “Yes, you are,” she agreed. “I’m very proud.”

Darcy was proud of the progress she’d made, too. In the last five years, Darcy _had_ grown up. She’d made her own way, earned each promotion and salary increase, paid her own bills, overhauled her wardrobe, learned three languages, lived in five different countries, and generally kicked adulthood’s ass. But if there was anything out of all of it that really made her feel like an adult, it was coming home. 

It was like there was another Darcy in the backseat with them, the ghost of the kid she used to be--madly in love and unafraid of anything--leftover from the era when she’d convince Jane to ditch an afternoon of work and ride around the city in Tony Stark’s borrowed car wearing thrift store finds and broken-in boots. It was finally hitting her just how far she’d come. 

They made it back to the tower and up to the penthouse without incident. Despite Jane’s assertion that there were no boys allowed on the upper level, Tony Stark was the first one that Darcy saw when she stepped off the elevator. 

“Jane,” he cried enthusiastically. “Traitor,” he added curtly, glancing up only briefly before returning to the cocktails he’d been mixing. 

“Hi Tony,” the women chorused together. 

“Mmm,” he purred. “I like the sound of that. Makes me feel all Charlie’s Angels. Do it again.”

Pepper saved them from having to respond. “You were supposed to be gone by now,” she reprimanded, sneaking up behind him as he added garnish to the pitcher of brightly colored alcohol, “What are you doing? I already opened a bottle of wine for tonight.”

“This isn’t for you. I’m playing poker with the boys tonight since you’ve banned all testosterone from _my_ home. You know how Bruce likes his appletinis.”

“You have a fully stocked bar in your lab,” Pepper reminded him. “You just wanted to be here to heckle Darcy. Now that you’ve said hello to your friends, shoo!” She flapped her hands towards him for emphasis so he claimed one of the cocktails and made for the door.

“Bye Angels,” he called right before the elevator doors closed behind him. 

With Tony dispatched, Pepper led them past the mini-bar and further into the suite, towards the sunken living room where garment racks, wine, and takeout had already been set up. Maria Hill, Natasha Romanoff, and Sharon Carter were already arrayed across the sofas and chairs filling the space. They all expressed pleasure at seeing Darcy but it was clear that they’d come for Jane. 

It made sense: when Darcy left, there had been a void in Jane’s life, not just for a new assistant, but for a friend. Jane didn’t make friends easily due to the fact that she was hardly away from her science if she could help it and these women had stepped in to fill that space. Still, it made Darcy feel slightly left out and guilty the way they knew Darcy’s old friend better than she did. 

Pepper knew that Jane didn’t like Thai food anymore and had ordered her a separate container of Chinese takeout. Sharon remembered that Jane couldn’t drink and ran interference every time Darcy forgot and offered her a glass of wine. Natasha and Maria asked for updates on projects and people that Darcy had never heard of. Between feeling out-of-touch and the general anxiety she felt just by being back in the tower, Darcy wondered morosely why she’d even come back. 

“Darce.” Jane calling her name softly pulled Darcy out of her self-pity funk. 

Darcy’s head jerked up and her jaw dropped. “Oh my God, Jane,” Darcy breathed. “You look amazing.”

“I told you to trust me,” Pepper smirked. 

Understated and elegant, it met both Pepper’s high and Jane’s low standards. It was ivory satin, with barely perceptible cap sleeves, a high neck and a low back. It was fitted at the hips to give it a bit of shape but, other than that, it hung loose and light on Jane’s slight frame. 

“Thank you,” Jane smiled, “but it’s your turn to try on your dress.”

“I have a dress,” Darcy protested. “It’s-”

“It better not be black.”

“-a very dark navy,” she finished. “It’s nice, I swear! I wear it to work functions!”

“Oh no,” Jane groaned, collapsing onto the couch dangerously close to Sharon’s pad thai. “Darcy, I’ve seen pictures of that dress. I thought you were at a funeral!”

“Now you’re just being mean,” Darcy sniffed. “I’m sure Pepper thinks it’s fine, don’t you Pepper?”

“Darcy, the best I would call that dress is serviceable.”

“Nyet,” Natasha scoffed. “You’re not going to see everyone after five years looking anything less than devastating.” Devastating to whom was implied. “We picked you out a dress, it’s over there. Try it on.”

It wasn’t a question. With all eyes on her, she went over to the garment rack, shimmied out of her pencil skirt and work blouse and into the dress. 

They’d chosen well: it was a dark wine chiffon that complimented her skin and hair. It had a deep v in the front with halter straps that criss-crossed her back and left her shoulder blades and spine bare. It would’ve been perfect if they’d accounted for her boobs. 

“I can’t wear this,” she all but whined. “There’s no way I can wear a bra with this open back. I need more support. They’re kind of just hanging there.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. 

“Stop whining,” she admonished, approaching quickly. Before Darcy had a chance to react, Natasha had both hands down the front of Darcy’s dress. 

“Wh,” Darcy managed to get out as the Black Widow pushed and pulled at sensitive skin. A roll of double-sided tape appeared and, with all of the fast moving fingers and sounds of tape being unfurled, Darcy’s chest was not dissimilar to a gift wrapping station at Macy’s during Christmas time. 

“There,” Natasha announced, stepping back with an expression of triumph. 

She glanced down to study Natasha’s handiwork and didn’t have to look far; her breasts were pushed up nearly to her chin. She looked up and caught sight of her reflection in the glass wall at the edge of the living room. Over her shoulder she could see Jane, still in her wedding dress, eyes as round as Darcy’s breasts. 

“You’re a magician,” Darcy whispered reverently. “A boob magician.” Natasha preened.

Feeling slightly more confident about her decision to attend her best friend’s wedding, Darcy and Jane changed into pajamas while the other women tried on and modeled their wedding attire.

“How come she gets to wear black,” Darcy demanded, pointing at the beaded dress with the hip high slit that Natasha was wearing. 

“It’s a really, really dark navy,” Natasha said in a tone that dared Darcy to argue. Darcy did not. 

Sometime after two, the wine ran out and Maria and Sharon, who didn’t live in the tower, headed home to their respective apartments. “Darcy, you’re in the guest room at the end of the hall,” Pepper directed. “Jane, you’re upstairs. There’s fresh towels in the attached bathrooms, please help yourself to anything you needed.” She headed upstairs to her suite and a drunken Tony--he’d stumbled in around 1:30 complaining about getting hustled again--and, with a little wave, Jane followed. 

Darcy had found her room, washed her face, brushed her teeth, and just climbed in bed when there was a timid knock at the door. 

“Darcy?” Darcy lifted her head and fumbled for her glasses on the nightstand. She stopped her fumbling, futile search when she made out the shape of the Avengers screenprinted on the front of Jane’s oversized t-shirt. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

Darcy couldn’t remember the last time she’d had an adult sleepover without sex but she wasn’t going to shirk her bridesmaid duties. Without a word, she flipped the covers back on the empty side of the bed. Jane ran and jumped into the bed, her momentum carrying her so that she crash landed half on top of Darcy. She shifted so that the majority of her--insubstantial--weight was off of Darcy but kept her arm flung across Darcy’s waist as she settled in. 

They talked a little, reminiscing on old times in New Mexico and adventures in New York. Jane was careful to skirt around one topic in particular so that there was a distinct hole in all of their New York memories. Darcy was fully awake from the impact of Jane’s jump and stared at the ceiling while Jane’s voice slowed and slurred as she slipped closer to sleep. 

Darcy thought that Jane was finally asleep but the diminutive scientist seemed to be holding on to consciousness long enough to ask one final question. “I know you were hurting, but you broke my heart when you left," Jane whispered. "I missed you so much while you were gone, Darcy. Why’d you have to go so far for so long?”

It was a question Darcy had asked herself every time she missed home, which, if she was being honest, had been happening more and more frequently. 

After the breakup, New York hadn’t felt the same. She was mad about the way things had ended, she was mad at herself for being unable to stop things from ending, she was mad that she’d ever fallen in love in the first place. And she was mad that she’d stuck with the familiar--Jane, her relationship, New York--instead of figuring out her own path and her own career. She was mad at her own helplessness. 

But now, Darcy wasn’t really mad anymore. From time to time, she’d feel a brief flare of anger at the way things had gone down, but then she’d just feel tired. So why _was_ she still gone?

Darcy’s answer didn’t matter anymore because, within a minute there came the sound of Jane’s faint snores. Darcy was glad that Pepper and Natasha had passed on Jane’s authentic sleepover idea where they’d all crash on the floor together in the living room; Natasha Romanov never would’ve been so careless as to fall asleep in the middle of an interrogation, even a sleepover one. 

She rolled over and tried to go to sleep but Jane’s question was still on her mind. Despite her initial anxiety, Darcy had found herself slipping easily back into life at the tower; it still felt like home. She wondered if she could still be as happy here as she’d once been. 

While Jane snored beside her, Darcy carefully slipped out from underneath the covers, threw a robe over her flimsy cotton nightgown, tiptoed across the cold marble floor of Tony’s massive living room, and rode the elevator in her pajamas down to the R&D floor. 

She just wanted to see the lab. Between the lab and her old apartment six floors up, she had spent the majority of her New York life within this building. She’d been deliriously happy, right up until the end, and she was just wondering what it would feel like to be back here, if that happiness was waiting for her in the last place she’d left it. 

Darcy was halfway down the hall when she heard voices approaching from the other direction, making her freeze. Her robe covered all the essential bits but it wasn’t anything she wanted to get caught creeping around in at 2 AM. She ducked into a nearby storage closet and eased the door shut behind her, ducking down and pressing her ear to the slats at the bottom of the door so that she’d know when the coast was clear. 

“Why do I keep agreeing to this,” a voice groaned. “You hustled me. Again.” Darcy smiled as she recognized the voice and started to rise out of her crouch. 

She dropped back down a beat later when a second, even more familiar voice answered, “If you know that you’re going to be hustled, why do you insist on complaining about it?”

“I figure one of these days you’ll be off your game and I’ll be able to recoup my losses,” Clint countered. “I really thought you’d be more distracted tonight.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the second voice answered stiffly. The undercurrent of anger in the speaker’s tone made Darcy’s stomach clench. 

“C’mon, Steve,” Clint pressed. They stopped walking and Darcy held her breath. “You’re honestly saying that you’re not bothered by the fact that Darcy is in the tower right now.”

At the sound of her name, Darcy clapped a hand over her mouth in case she felt tempted to make a noise and give away her hiding spot. With the other hand, she pressed it to the door, balancing herself as she leaned closer, listening for Steve’s answer.

“No,” Steve gritted out. “I’m not. I could care less that she’s back.” Clint scoffed; Darcy felt like she’d been punched. 

Their boots resumed their previous pace down the hall. Darcy stayed where she was until her heart stopped racing and her eyes stopped burning. And then, finally, when she was able to catch her breath, she slipped quietly out of the storage closet, hurried back to the elevator, snuck through the penthouse and crawled back into bed.

Darcy didn't sleep that night. The next morning, when Jane rolled over, she frowned at finding Darcy already awake. "Everything alright," Jane queried sleepily.

"Just a little jet lagged," Darcy lied, climbing out of bed and starting to get dressed. "You better get up, the car is leaving in forty minutes."

"Are you sure," Jane persisted as Darcy headed for the bathroom with her bag of toiletries. "You don't look like so well."

"I'll be fine once we're gone," Darcy answered and that was the truth. Forty minutes later as they left the tower behind and headed for the Hamptons, Darcy's exhaustion caught up with her and she slept the whole way there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfic in YEARS so I might've totally missed the mark on this one. I just recently fell into a wormhole of Avengers fanfic and, while eagerly devouring the party line (Darcy and Steve fall easily in love, happily ever after, THE END) I was craving something more messy, more realistic. 
> 
> I love the ballsy BAMF snarky version of Darcy that's been carried over from the movies into most fanfics but she's a bit older now, a bit more jaded, so I hope I do her justice in painting her as the woman I imagined she'd grow into. Any discrepancies can be attributed to growing pains.


	2. The Wedding

There was a call to assemble forty minutes before the rehearsal was set to begin. 

Since it was only the rehearsal, Pepper hadn’t insisted on a gown so Jane was wearing a plain linen shift dress and Darcy was in her serviceable really-dark-navy dress. They’d spent the day making last minute decisions and directing a cadre of staff that Tony kept employed even when he wasn’t in residence. The staff seemed entirely unfazed to be responsible for pulling off a last-minute wedding weekend for 50+ guests. 

Darcy had just passed Jane a glass of water when Natasha appeared at her elbow. Darcy jolted in surprise, dashing a bit of water down the front of her dress. Natasha didn’t even arch an eyebrow, just delivered her news. 

“There’s a situation in DC,” she announced curtly. 

Jane took a deep breath and smoothed her palms down the front of her dress. “Okay,” she said. “What do I need to know?”

“I’m headed out now,” Natasha explained. They could begin to hear the sound of chopper blades approaching from the distance. “That’s Steve in the helicarrier coming to get me. Thor and Tony are already down there. Clint and Bruce will stay here. It’s not a major concern, mostly containment at this point, but we might not be back until the morning.”

“Okay,” Jane repeated, taking another deep breath. “Okay.” She took the glass from Darcy and took a steadying sip, the expression on her face implying she wished it was something stronger. As if remembering why that was impossible, her hand passed briefly over the still-flat plane of her stomach. 

“Okay,” Natasha agreed with a faint smile. She squeezed Jane’s free hand. “It’ll be fine, Jane, I promise. Today, it’s time to save the world. But tomorrow, it’s all about your wedding and it’ll be perfect.”

“Thank you, Tasha,” Jane said. Natasha nodded and headed for the south edge of the property where the helicarrier was descending into the tree line.

“Natasha,” Jane called out just before Natasha reached the edge of the patio. “Bring him home in one piece, alright? And on time?”

“I’ll do my best,” Natasha promised. And then she was gone.

Without anything to rehearse, Pepper orchestrated a smooth transition into dinner and drinks with light music. She and Darcy took turns shadowing Jane for the rest of the night. 

“Wine is okay for pregnant women in moderation, Darcy,” Jane snapped after Darcy took away the third glass that Jane had managed to sneak from the bar. 

“And I would totally let you have this glass if I knew that Pepper hadn’t already let you have one,” Darcy countered. She held the glass out of Jane’s reach. “Why don’t you go talk to your parents? They’re feeling slighted.” Grumbling, Jane stomped in the direction of her parents. 

The wine glass was plucked from Darcy’s hand and she spun to find Pepper standing behind her looking bemused. “That was impressive,” Pepper observed, taking a sip of wine. 

_So cool_ , Darcy thought wistfully. “Thank you,” Darcy managed to answer instead. “It’s all about deflection. The same method works with crying children.”

Pepper eyed her speculatively over the edge of the glass. “Hmm,” she murmured. 

Darcy’s smile faltered, unsure of what to make of that assessment. “Well, I could use a drink myself,” she announced a bit awkwardly. “If you’ll excuse me.” Pepper stepped aside and Darcy made a beeline for the bar. 

She was waiting for her drink when she felt a tap on her shoulder. “Clint,” she cried excitedly, throwing her arms about his neck. 

After she’d let him go, he flashed some sort of signal conveying his drink order to the bartender and focused on Darcy. “This is a lively party, isn’t it?” 

Darcy rolled her eyes. The band was limping along and Jane seemed to be terrorizing her own parents who looked helpless in the face of their daughter’s frantic pacing. “I should go intervene,” she remarked, observing the scene from the opposite side of the patio, “but I just don’t have the energy.”

“Isn’t this what you do for a living?”

“Ah,” Darcy held up a finger signaling an addendum. “I upgraded: I traded in wrangling scientists for wrangling CEOs. Technically, Jane can’t afford me.”

Clint smirked and they sipped their respective drinks. 

“I know it makes me a terrible friend,” Darcy confessed as they both watched Jane snap at a passing waiter, “but I’m a little bit relieved that they didn’t make it tonight if it means that I get to put off seeing Steve for one more day.”

“He didn’t mean it, you know,” Clint announced. 

“Pardon,” Darcy inquired, patting at the corner of her mouth where she’d sloshed some of her drink. 

“Steve,” Clint clarified. “What he said about not wanting you back. He didn’t mean it.”

“Wh,” she stammered. “H-How’d you-”

“I saw you duck into the closet,” he admitted sheepishly. “I didn't say anything because I thought maybe he’d admit his vulnerability and it’d put you at ease about being back, knowing you’re not the only one who’s on edge. My plan might’ve backfired.”

“You think?” she snapped, then sighed. “I’m sorry, I see what you meant. I don’t know if knowing that Steve’s just as wound up as I am is a relief, though.”

“Whatever happened with you two,” Clint asked. “I mean, I know it wasn’t easy getting back to normal after the kidnapping, but you two seemed to be handling it. And then, you left.”

Darcy’s mouth tightened, her breathing picking up as she remembered the catalyst that’d broken them. Weeks spent in a wet, dark cell. Days spent wondering if this was how she died. Hours spent picking apart every memory and moment she’d spent with Steve, with all of the Avengers, her friends, her family. And then, finally, just when she thought she might actually go crazy, a beam of light had broken into her cell when Steve literally kicked down the door and carried her out. 

But Clint was right: it was nearly impossible to get back to normal. The experience had changed not just Darcy but Steve as well and they struggled for weeks with trying to get their relationship back on track. She’d thought that they were succeeding until one night Steve had come home with a look on his face that made her feel like she was being kidnapped all over again. 

“Where is this coming from,” she’d asked after he’d told her that they needed to spend time apart. 

“Nowhere,” he had grunted in response. 

Her eyes had narrowed angrily. “Nowhere,” she repeated, her tone icy. 

He had the grace to look ashamed. “I mean, nowhere new. I think we’ve known this was coming for a while now.”

“Maybe you did but I’m sure feeling pretty fucking blindsided,” she’d snapped. 

Steve had grimaced. “Look, it’s not like we’re engaged or anything. At least we’re getting out while we can.”

Darcy had snorted. “Oh, so, just because there’s no ring, this doesn’t actually mean anything?”

He hadn’t answered. She hadn’t been inclined to believe him, at first. This didn’t sound like anything Steve would think up on his own. Even the way he said it--“I think we’ve known this was coming for a while now”--sounded rehearsed. She’d been inclined to hold out and see if she couldn’t convince him to change his mind but then, instead of giving her a day or two to process this news, he had packed a bag and left. 

Three weeks later, she followed suit. Only, Darcy didn’t just leave their apartment, she left the country. 

Clint was still waiting for an answer. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Barton,” Darcy lied. “It’s not like there was every a ring; we weren’t married or engaged, there was nothing to keep us from breaking up sooner or later.”

Clint gave her a look that implied he didn’t believe her. 

“Life isn’t the way it is in the movies, Clint,” she said, softer this time. “Even if you think it’s love, happily-ever-after, the whole bit, nothing is guaranteed once credits roll. Our time just ran out.”

“Don’t be such a cynic,” Clint chided with a roll of his eyes, “You’re too young to be so jaded.”

She shot him a sideways glance. “You’re telling me _you_ believe in happily-ever-afters, Agent Barton?”

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “But then again, maybe you have a point. I think I was just disappointed is all: I was rooting for you kids.” 

Darcy raised her glass in a mock toast. “You and me both,” she intoned before downing the contents of her glass and heading to intercept Jane as she attempted to corner another waiter. 

……………………..

As Darcy gathered up the bouquets and prepared to head outside for the walk down the aisle, Jane turned pale and lunged for the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet before she was throwing up. 

“It’s fine,” she insisted as Pepper held back her hair. “Morning sickness.”

“It’s two in the afternoon,” Darcy pointed out. 

“My baby isn’t discriminating,” Jane groaned before being swept up in a second wave of nausea. 

“Darcy, could you go get Jane a ginger ale,” Pepper suggested. “There should be some in the kitchen fridge.”

“Of course.” Darcy fired off a quick text to Natasha, who was already waiting outside, to let her know what the hold up was before setting down her bouquet and hustling to fetch Jane’s drink. 

She had a cold ginger ale and sleeve of crackers in hand and was headed back upstairs when Steve stepped into the doorway of the kitchen, blocking her escape. 

“Oh,” Darcy squeaked in surprise. 

“Hi,” Steve said sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Um, Natasha sent me to check on things.”

Darcy nodded and they stood there awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. Five years apart and this was the best they could do. 

“Ginger ale,” Darcy finally said, holding up the can as evidence. “Jane’s, um, sick.” Steve nodded. “So I should, uh, get back.” Steve nodded again but made no move to get out of her way.

“I really should go,” Darcy started to say just as Steve said, “I think we should-” They both stopped, briefly met eyes and then looked away. 

God, one of them was going to have to grow up. Steeling herself, Darcy took a deep breath. “Steve, I have to go now,” she said firmly. Miraculously, he stepped aside without a word and she hurried past.

Up the stairs and out of sight, she sagged against a wall, all but gasping for air. She felt clammy and nauseous, like Jane’s morning sickness was contagious. Even though she knew Pepper and Jane--and the rest of the wedding guests--were waiting, she took a minute to catch her breath and calm her nerves. 

As her racing heart slowed down, it occurred to Darcy that she’d never been so scared, not even when she’d been kidnapped. When she’d been snatched off that street corner in broad daylight, she hadn’t believed it was happening at first. It was only when she’d spent weeks in that cell that the fear really started to set in. Breaking up with Steve had been like that, at first: she hadn’t believed it was really happening at first. She’d spent months in London in a literal and emotional fog, swallowed alive by fear that this was the rest of her life, that she’d never find her way out of this depression. 

By some miracle, she had. Seeing Steve again brought back that fear and that bottomless panic that she would never get over this. She didn’t want to go back to that place, she didn’t want to be that person again. 

“Darcy,” Pepper called from down the hall. “Everything alright?”

“Fine, fine,” she called back. Her voice only shook slightly. Taking a deep breath--and a cracker to calm her weak stomach--she headed down the hall so they could get this show on the road. 

……………………..

The wedding was beautiful and Darcy cried. Just a few tears but enough for Tony to notice and give her hell for it the minute the ceremony was over. 

“Shut up, Tony,” Pepper warned, “or I’ll tell her which movie you always pick when its your turn to chose for date night.”

Tony narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me,” Pepper challenged. 

Tony contemplated her determined face briefly before turning to address Darcy. “Miss Lewis, I apologize for my teasing. It was a beautiful ceremony, you had every right to get emotional. Pepp, join me for a drink?”

“In a minute,” Pepper smiled indulgently so Tony headed to the bar alone. Darcy and Pepper watched as he joined Thor, Steve, Clint, and Bruce already gathered there. Tony clapped Thor on the back and Bruce said something that made all of them laugh. 

“He really missed you, you know,” Pepper confided. 

“Tony? I know, even if he doesn’t act like it.”

“Him too,” Pepper agreed. “But I was talking about Steve.”

They had finished their round of shots. Steve turned and said something to his date, a petite brunette who’d just appeared at his side, placing his hand proprietorially on the small of her back. She wore a demure, serviceable navy dress and looked as wholesome as apple pie--a perfect fit for Steve. 

“He seems to be pining,” Darcy remarked flatly. 

Pepper winced. “Not great timing,” she admitted. “She’s just-”

Darcy held up her hand for Pepper to stop. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t need to know. I, for one, am _not_ pining. Steve wasn’t the first guy who’s broken my heart and he won’t be the last. I’m fine.”

“Is that why you looked like you were going to throw up after bumping into him this morning?” Darcy’s head turned sharply, giving Pepper a surprised look. “I was wondering what was taking so long and stuck my head down the stairs,” Pepper confessed. “You’ve managed to keep it together very well this whole trip, by the way.” 

Darcy straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “It’s not an act,” she said firmly. “It’s how I really feel.” She cracked momentarily, casting a sideways glance at Pepper, “You won’t tell anyone what you saw, will you?”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Pepper assured her with a wink. 

“And Tony’s secrets?” Darcy finagled.

“Pepper,” Tony cried, waving her over. “C’mere, we’re doing shots!”

“Sorry,” Pepper excused herself, “duty calls." She paused, then added with a wink and a smirk, "Anything by Nicholas Sparks.” 

Darcy laughed and waved off Tony’s exhortations for her to join them for the next round. 

As an executive assistant for a VP of a major communications firm, Darcy’s job required her to be in the thick of things, constantly smiling and charming and remembering people’s names and positions and schedules. She took a moment to hang at the edges of the crowd and just enjoy the hustle and noise flow around her. Everyone was laughing and talking all at once and it became a kind of white noise that she was able to lose herself to. 

During dinner, Darcy found herself seated at a table with Natasha, Clint, and some of Jane’s friends from college. The college friends spent most of their time giggling and mooning over Thor, Steve, and Tony. Clint was handling the snub poorly. 

“Really, _I’m_ the impressive one,” he complained sometime after dinner had ended and the dancing had begun, loud enough for them to overhear if they’d been paying attention, which they weren’t. “Thor, god. Steve just got lucky. Tony built his suit, it’s not like he does any of his own heavy lifting. I am raw talent.”

Darcy wrinkled her nose. “Never call yourself raw talent.” He gave her a lascivious wink. She pretended to gag. 

“Stop whining, Clint,” Natasha scolded. “I’m just as human as you and you don’t see me complaining, do you?”

“No, but I’m not entirely convinced you _are_ human,” Clint countered. This time it was Natasha’s turn to wink lasciviously. 

Clint and Natasha were comparing stories of humanity--broken bones and battle scars, each more graphic and disturbing than the last--and Darcy was getting increasingly grossed out when someone cleared their throat behind them. Darcy saw Natasha’s eyebrow go up before she craned her neck to get an eyeful of Steve’s torso looming over her. 

Steve stood behind them, digging his hands in his pockets and looking sheepish. “I wanted to apologize,” he said, “for earlier, outside the kitchen. I didn’t, that’s not how I wanted things to go when I saw you again. I’d like to make it up to you. May I have this dance?”

Darcy glanced around and spotted his petite apple pie date dancing with Bruce. Clint and Natasha were looking at her with twin expectant gazes. “Sure,” she said, masking her trepidation with a broad smile. She hoped to God that Pepper was right and no one could tell how unsettled she was by the idea of being close to Steve. Of course, everyone had already assumed it, but giving them fodder for those assumptions was another thing. 

She rose gracefully and caught the way his eyes darted to her magicked boobs before glancing away. He took her hand and, avoiding her gaze, led her to the dance floor. 

They moved awkwardly at first and Darcy regretted ever agreeing to attend this wedding. _She_ could act as unaffected and carefree as she wanted but he was telegraphing his uneasiness all over his face, making her complicit in his discomfort. 

“So,” he said, striving for a topic of conversation to relax them both. “What’ve you been up to since…”

Darcy skated gracefully over the trailed off sentence. “I moved on from wrangling scientists to wrangling businessmen. I was in London first, then Madrid for a short while, and Tokyo these last two years.”

He nodded but had no followup comment. His gaze was fixed firmly over her head. She rolled his eyes at his left pec. 

Steve treating Darcy delicately was not a new problem, just one she hadn’t had to deal with since before they’d started dating. In the old days, she had a method for getting him to lighten up: whatever it was he didn't want to talk about, she would pick something equally equally uncomfortable to make him regret avoiding the topic in the first place. He didn’t want to address the fact that this was the first time they’d been near one another since they’d broken up? Fine, they would talk about something else. 

“I see you brought a date,” she remarked coolly. Childish? Yes. Vindictive? Absolutely. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I wouldn’t have, I didn’t know, I thought you were bringing someone,” he finally managed to stammer a complete sentence. “I heard you were dating some corporate lawyer.”

“In London,” she replied flippantly. “It ended ages ago. Nothing serious.”

“I heard he proposed.”

“Well, maybe it was more serious for him,” she admitted. 

One hurdle cleared, his shoulders lowered a barely perceptible inch. 

“So what’s her name?”

“Who? Oh, my date? Sarah. She works for SHIELD.”

“Sarah the SHIELD agent? Are you serious?”

He cracked a smile and her knees weakened. “‘fraid not,” he admitted. 

“And are things serious with Sarah the SHIELD agent,” she inquired lightly, focusing on the lapel on his coat. 

“No.” His answer was quick, but not eager. Perfectly timed, perfectly executed, it didn’t hint at hope for reconciliation or secret, pining pain. Steve, with his big hand on her bare back, felt the way her body responded in relief to his answer and his own shoulders loosed some of the tension there. 

She was going to ask another question, the kind of question a friend--even a friendly ex--might ask but the song ended. 

Steve briefly hesitated before leaning down and, instinctively, she closed her eyes as his lips brushed a centimeter shy of her ear, his jaw bumping against hers. “It was good to see you again, Darce,” he said directly into her ear. All of the tension that had just melted away came roaring back. 

_Fuck_ she thought as he released her with a bland, friendly smile and headed back to stupid apple pie Sarah the SHIELD agent. 

“How do you feel,” Clint asked when she’d stumbled back to the table, suddenly unsteady in her three inch heels. Natasha had disappeared.

“Like I need to get drunk,” she said flatly. 

“That’s my kind of mission,” he grinned, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the bar. 

The last thing she remembered from that night was Steve dancing with apple pie Susan, laughing at something she said, before Darcy grabbed Clint and a bottle of Jack and tugged him towards the guesthouse at the back of the property. 

……………………..

The next morning, Darcy had made it out of the guest house, across the back lawn, up the patio, and halfway through the living room without incident before someone called her name. 

“Darcy, could you come in here please?”

She froze, shoes in hand and feet still damp from the dew on the grass, at the foot of the stairs. This felt like high school all over again. 

Slowly, Darcy turned and approached the kitchen with the same heavy step she would have her execution. Pepper was sitting in the breakfast nook wearing a long silk robe, a cup of coffee and plate of leftover wedding cake in front of her. She set down the newspaper she’d been reading and smiled warmly at Darcy. “Coffee? Cake?”

“No, thank you,” Darcy declined. She perched on the edge of the nearest chair, at the opposite end of the table from Pepper. Her fingers tightened around the straps of her shoes, clutching them to her knees. She wanted to change out of her gown from the wedding before anyone else saw her. She glanced down and plucked at the listless front of her dress; at some point in the course of the night the magic--and the double sided tape--had disappeared. 

“So,” Pepper said, lacing her fingers together. “I meant what I said.”

Darcy thought back. “About what?”

“About you keeping it together this weekend,” Pepper said, though, from the twist of her lips, the _until now_ was implied. “I’d like to offer you a job.”

“But I have a job,” Darcy blurted out in surprise. 

“Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double it,” Pepper offered without batting an eye. 

Darcy’s eyes, still crusty with sleep, narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”

“Why not,” Pepper shrugged. “You’re good at what you do. You’re smart, too smart to be scheduling meetings and rearranging schedules. With me, you’d _learn_ from me: about running a major corporation, about how to handle yourself as a woman in a male-dominated world, about how to launder your own silks with a teakettle and a bar of soap when necessary. I’d be lucky to have you. You bring something to the table, Darcy, even if you don’t see it yet yourself. It’d do the team good to have you back.”

Darcy was still hesitant. “That all sounds amazing but, is there...some other reason you’re offering me this position now?”

Pepper glanced down at the paper before looking back up. “I think, sometimes, we need an escape route without even knowing it.”

Darcy frowned, unsure if Pepper was talking about Steve or her job in Tokyo or her friendship with Jane or her life back in the States--all things that she’d realized this weekend were things that felt so far away that she didn’t know how to get back to _without_ some sort of shortcut or escape route. 

“I guess,” Darcy said, “I’ll have to think about it.”

“That’s all I ask,” Pepper said, smiling broadly. She looked Darcy over. “Now I’d hurry and change before Tony gets back.”

That had Darcy up and rushing for the door in a heartbeat. Pepper’s voice made her pause at the door. 

“Oh, and Darcy? Clint? Really?”

Darcy rolled her eyes and headed upstairs to change. 

……………………..

Three weeks later she was striding across the lobby when the elevator doors opened to reveal Steve and Clint. 

“Darcy,” Clint cried excitedly, noticing her first. “You’re back!” Steve’s head jerked in surprise and he gaped at her in surprise. He was left behind as Clint crossed the lobby in five quick steps, picked her up and swung her in a brief circle before setting her down again. Obviously no awkward feelings about her sneaking out of his room remained. 

“Hello Darcy,” Steve said stiffly. She felt an overwhelming urge to smack him for his prim tone; you shouldn’t be able to talk like that to someone who’s had your dick in their mouth. “What do you mean ‘back’? What’re you doing here?”

Maybe Darcy had grown up over the last five years but she still had a childishly vindictive streak when wronged. It seemed to flare up when Steve was concerned--at least that was her reasoning behind sleeping with Clint after the wedding--and, since she couldn’t physically assault an ex and national treasure, she settled for a wicked smirk. 

“Oh, didn’t you hear,” she cooed innocently, her eyes hard and her smile sharp. “I’m starting my new job today as Pepper Potts’ assistant. I’ve moved back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to post a second chapter so close after the first and set certain expectations but this story is flying together and I happened to have a light week at work. I'd like to claim the comments as motivation to write and post so quickly. It's a much different experience getting feedback right away versus toiling on something for weeks and months in a room by yourself. 
> 
> This story is unbeta'd so I happily welcome any corrections, suggestions, and insights. Anything that you feel is missing or was left unclear, let me know and I can do my best to fix.


	3. Friends

“Agent Barton,” Darcy said as she passed him in the hallway. “I, ah, have a report that I need to ask you some questions about, if you don’t mind.”

“Sure,” Clint shrugged, unsuspectingly following her around the corner and into the supply closet.

“There is no report, is there,” Clint sighed as Darcy started unbuttoning her top.

“Nope,” she grinned, shrugging her shirt off her shoulders and proceeding to kiss him wearing only a skirt, heels, and a sky blue lace balconette bra.

“Mmf,” Clint tried to say but, with her tongue in his mouth, it was barely discernible. He gently pushed at her shoulders until she took a stumbling step back. Her lipstick was almost completely gone. Clint grimaced; this meant that Mac’s Dark Side would be smeared across his neck and lips.

“Maybe,” he tried again, once he’d successfully detached Darcy, “you should try talking to him.”

“Talking to who?”

“Don’t play dumb, Darce.”

“ _I’m_ the one playing dumb? My boobs are out and everything, Clint.”

“You can’t keep pulling me into supply closets because you’re mad at Steve.”

“I’m not mad at Steve,” she insisted irritably. “Right now, I’m mad at you. What makes you think this has anything to do with him? Why does everyone assume that just because I’m sad, I’m missing Steve, or because I’m mad, I’m angry at Steve, or because I want to have sex, I’m horny for Steve? Why can’t this just be about me, needing to have sex?”

Clint gave her pitying look.

“Oh my God,” she shouted, her voice shrill, “that’s the look. The look everyone keeps giving me. Did you all get together and practice it before I came back? I’m not pining, I’m not heartbroken, I’m not going to snap and break down in a sobbing mess so you and Pepper and Natasha and Jane and Tony and everyone else in this fucking tower can stop giving me that damn look.”

“Okay,” he soothed, his eyes wide but his voice calm as he reached out to put a placating hand on her shoulder. “But I think maybe, on some level, this is-”

“Fuck you,” she spat, giving him a hard look before snatching up her shirt and before storming out of the closet and flashing the junior agents walking down the hall.

……………………

“Maybe you should just talk to him?”

“And maybe you should just butt out. Honestly, Jane, it’s like you’re taking his side.”

“I’m not taking his side, I’m just saying he didn’t mean any harm. He’s really sorry.”

“Well he can go be sorry somewhere else,” Darcy directed this last bit at a raised volume and over her shoulder to the corner of the lab where Clint was eating lunch with Bruce. “Because of him, Tony now has security stills of me, topless, snarling at a bunch of baby agents, posted all over the tower.”

“I wasn’t the one who made you take your top off,” Clint pointed out and she threw a carrot at him. He caught it easily.

“I’ve got to get back to work,” Darcy sighed, packing up the trash from her lunch. Jane waved goodbye as Darcy headed for the door. “Are you going to lurk around my office, too,” she called over her shoulder.

“I really am sorry!” Clint’s response followed her out into the hall where she promptly ran directly into Steve.

“Sorry for what,” he inquired, reaching out a hand to steady her as she bounced off his chest.

“What? Oh, nothing,” she said quickly. “I, uh, have to get back to work.” She stepped around him and hurried down the hall before he noticed the flush coloring her cheeks and neck. When she reached the elevator at the end of the hall, she glanced back to see that Steve was still standing outside the lab watching her.

“Quit being a creep,” she whispered under her breath. As if he heard her--which he probably had--he ducked his head sheepishly and entered the lab.

As she rode the elevator with her guilt, she thought about those early days in their friendship, before they’d started dating, when she would look up to find him staring at her when she hadn’t even realized he was in the room. Before they’d officially become friends, it had been as creepy then as it was now.

She’d been flattered at first, expecting him to follow it up with an insightful compliment or casual remark to initiate a rapport. When waiting on him had become tiring, she had made the effort, asking open-ended questions that he managed to answer in as few words as possible. When _that_ had run its course on her patience, she’d snapped.

She’d been working late in the lab one evening, entering data for Jane, when she’d looked up to find Steve on the other side of the room. “Holy shit,” she’d shouted, jerking so violently that papers had gone flying.

“I’m sorry,” he’d apologized.

“What the hell is wrong with you,” she’d kept shouting. He froze in the middle of the room. “You can’t just stare at people like that! It’s creepy!”

“I-I’m sorry,” he had repeated.

“You should be,” she’d continued indignantly. “It’s mean. And creepy.”

“You said creepy already,” he pointed out.

Her eyes had narrowed. “It’s creepy of you to notice that.”

And still he hadn’t followed up with anything. So she’d gathered the papers that she’d finished entering and carried them down to the lower levels where research was stored in a safe, non-flammable place, leaving Captain America silent and alone in the middle of Jane’s lab.

But when the elevator doors had opened, he’d been there on the other side, thirty-six flights down from the floor she’d left him on less than a minute earlier. “Jesus H,” she’d screeched, dropping all of her papers again and clutching at her chest. “What the actual fuck, Steve?!”

“I’m sorry,” he said a third time, and she was about to yell at him again, but he wasn’t finished. “I wanted to apologize for the staring. You’re just…something of a marvel and I’m still trying to figure it out.”

“By it you mean me,” she had asked, pointing at her chest for clarification.

“Yes,” he had nodded.

“You’re not this awkward around your friends, are you,” she had asked, shifting from foot to foot as she considered this insightful compliment. The elevator doors dinged and started to close and he reached out and stopped them.

“No,” he had answered, leaning forward to hold the door, nowhere near her but still leaving her feeling like his hand was on the wall above her head, not four feet away.

After an awkward pause during which he’d kept the doors from closing two more times, she had finally spoken up. “Okay,” she said, making up her mind. “We can be friends.”

“We can?” His eyebrows had gone up in surprise.

“Of course, I’m doing this under the assumption that you’re telling the truth and really aren’t as awkward as this with your friends. But yes, we’ll be friends. And you can keep staring.”

He had looked mildly relieved that he had her blessing. Then he looked suspicious. “Why?”

She had smiled and took a step towards him, stepping on top of the papers scattered on the floor. “Because I want you to figure out what it is about me that makes me a marvel. And when you do, I want you to let me know.”

She’d expected him to blush or back down but he’d held his ground as she took another step closer. Still, not anywhere close to invading his space, but the distance she’d removed between them felt significant.

“I can do that,” he said, his voice quiet.

“Good,” she said, her voice equally soft. She held out a hand for him to shake. “Friends?”

“Friends,” he had agreed. They shook on it and, when he let her hand go, the elevator doors, finally freed, closed quickly. She’d sagged against the wall in relief and rode it all the way back to her apartment floor in stunned silence, leaving the papers behind. The next morning, when she’d opened her door, they were piled in a neat stack and tied with a blue ribbon, rested in the center of her doormat.

The elevator dinged again and she was back in the present and on the floor where Pepper’s office was located. Darcy pushed away from the elevator wall a little too roughly and stumbled out onto the floor on shaky legs.

Work provided a welcome respite from thoughts of the past; she spent the afternoon buried in work, researching and drafting a dossier on a company that had been flagged for purchasing a notable amount of Stark stock. Pepper had written the company’s name on a Post It and handed it to Darcy at the end of their morning meeting.

“What do you want me to do with this,” Darcy had asked when no further instructions were forthcoming.

“Take initiative,” Pepper had instructed. “I told you that I hired you to do more than fetch coffee and field my phone calls. The company has purchased a large amount of our stock recently. It could be that they’re trying to branch out into the tech sector, it could be something else.”

In Darcy’s old position, she had been a typical executive assistant: she assisted the executive. She handled his dry cleaning, took his messages, handled his schedule. He had a whole cadre of underlings—all male—who’d been responsible for anything more creative than deciding what office supplies to order. Pepper already had an executive assistant for that. For twice her previous salary—which had not been insignificant—Darcy played back up to that assistant—a sweet, older lady named Martha who Tony was inextricably terrified and cowed by—and also acted as paid protégé.

When she’d returned to her office with the Post It in hand, she’d immediately called Natasha.

“What is it,” Natasha had answered, slightly impatient, slightly out of breath.

“Is now a bad time?”

“I’m sparring with Steve. Would you like to say hello?”

Darcy had taken it as the hint that it was to get to the point. “I need to hire a private investigator.”

“What is this in regards to?”

“A surge in SI stock purchases, maybe some sort of bid for control?”

“And what’s the name of the company?” Darcy had told her. “Excellent, I’ll be by with a report later today.”

“That’s not what I-” Natasha had already hung up.

Determined to prove herself to Pepper—and Natasha—Darcy had dug into research on her end as well. By the time Natasha stopped by around 3, Darcy knew the names and positions and former positions of every top executive at Clayborne International. Her time memorizing schedules and titles and business partners had paid off.

Natasha was impressed with that Darcy had managed to pull together on her own. “Since you already have the groundwork down, we can get right to the point,” Natasha said eagerly, pulling a manila folder and a digital camera out of her bag. She passed the camera across the desk for Darcy to scroll through the pictures while Natasha read aloud from her file.

An hour later, they’d come up with a game plan. Natasha would continue to trail some of the top executives, the ones with the power to authorize a purchase of substantial size. Darcy would work on setting up a business lunch to get to know their new investors. They wouldn’t tell Pepper until they had something solid to tell.

“Are you sure about this,” Darcy asked apprehensively as she walked Natasha to the elevator. “I don’t think this is what Pepper had in mind when she said ‘take initiative.’”

“She trusts you, Darcy,” Natasha reminded her. “I do too. You’re going to be fine. Besides, I’ll be there with you, posing as your assistant.”

“You will?” Darcy didn’t try to keep the relief from her voice.

“Of course,” Natasha said, rolling her eyes. “I wouldn’t come up with this plan and then send an amateur in alone, would I? Very sloppy.”

Now it was Darcy’s turn to roll her eyes but, before she could add a verbal response, Natasha’s phone went off, blaring the familiar call to assemble. She glanced at her phone briefly, then frowned.

“Is everything alright,” Darcy asked.

Natasha didn’t answer, just grabbed Darcy’s wrist and pulled her onto the elevator with her. “There’s an emergency in the labs. You should probably come.”

……………………

“She shouldn’t be here.”

“Excuse me,” Darcy demanded shrilly. “That’s my best friend in there. Like hell you’re going to tell me where I can and can’t be.” Steve kept his gaze resolutely focused on Tony, who looked torn. “You’re not even going to look at me? You’re just going to pretend like I’m not here? This is bullshit. You’re being an asshole, Steve. That’s right! I called Captain America an asshole!”

“Darcy,” Tony interrupted. “Shut up!” Darcy frowned. “Steve, stop being an asshole.” Darcy beamed. “If you two can’t play nice, you need to leave.”  
There was silence in the hallway outside the lab. 

Inside the lab, there was chaos. Lights flickered intermittently and, even though the sprinklers had put out the fire, things were still faintly smoking. Clint was unconscious on the floor, Jane was hiding underneath a desk, the Hulk stood in the middle of the room. 

“There’s protocol in place for a reason,” Natasha pointed out softly. 

“This isn’t SHIELD, Natasha,” Tony snapped. “I’m not going to shoot my best friend. I think he can be, he should be, he would _want_ to be reasoned with.” 

Natasha’s single raised eyebrow expressed doubts but Darcy was on Tony’s side. “Besides,” Darcy chimed in, “the tranquilizers aren’t immediately effective. If we inject him and he gets angry, he can still do plenty more damage before being knocked out. I don’t think you should put Jane, or Clint, in that situation.”

“This really isn’t your call,” Steve started to argue but Darcy silenced him with a glare. “Fine,” he huffed. “Tony, if you want to try and reason with him, we have your back.”

“Great, I’ll-”

“I should do it,” Darcy interrupted. 

“Absolutely not,” Steve snapped. Tony expressed a similar negative response but Natasha looked contemplative. 

“I’ve done it before,” she argued.

“Yeah, but you were still working in the labs then,” Tony countered. “It’s been a few years, he might not recognize you.”

“The last time you tried to reason with the Hulk, you got punched through a wall and that was just last month,” Darcy retorted. She turned to Natasha. “You think I can do it, don’t you? That’s why you told me to come.”

“ _You_ invited her?” Steve turned on Natasha. “This isn’t some police car ride along.”

Natasha gave Steve a withering look. “I know that, Steven.” He looked properly chastised and Darcy felt elated. Tony and Natasha traded glances.

“You’re not seriously considering this,” Steve cried. 

“I am,” Tony admitted. “There are worse ideas. It’s was only a little explosion, Bruce should be able to snap out of this on his own. If he can’t, we’ll be there with back up.”

Steve looked mutinous but Natasha nodded. Thor didn’t get a vote because he off talking politics in DC. They wanted this resolved and over with before his flight got back in an hour. With two out of three nods, Darcy nodded back and put her hand tentatively on the door, taking a deep breath before pushing it open. 

It was like a scene out of disaster movie: flashing safety lights, fluttering papers, the smell of smoke, the sound of heavy breathing. 

“Hi Hulk,” she said tentatively, inching into the room. “Remember me? I’m Darcy. We’re friends, we go way back.” She froze as that giant head swiveled in her direction, the eyes unblinking. 

“Darcy,” Steve breathed very softly behind her. She inched away from him, further into the room. She should’ve been scared, she should’ve been worried about Jane or Clint or even herself, but really, all she wanted was to prove Steve wrong.

“Hey big guy,” she started again. “There’s nothing to be scared of. Come over here with me, let’s chat.” She started shifting towards the right side of the room, away from Clint and Jane. Behind her, Steve and Natasha slipped into the room but the Hulk tracked only Darcy’s movements and took a tentative shuffle with her. 

“Darcy?” It was Jane’s voice, muffled from underneath a desk. The Hulk’s head turned and Darcy took two quick steps closer to him, trying to reclaim his attention. 

“Right here,” she called, her voice quiet but urgent. “Look at me. Hulk, do you remember me? I’m Darcy. One time, I brought you ice cream. You told me your favorite flavor was strawberry.” 

The last time that Darcy had talked down the Hulk, almost seven years ago, she’d panicked and started asking him distracting questions--the way she used to when she babysat in high school and a kid would start screaming: what’s your favorite color? Favorite toy? Favorite flavor of ice cream? He’d seized on the topic of ice cream, grunting one-word responses with something akin to excitement. 

He didn’t look that interested in ice cream as he took a lumbering step towards her, his muscles tensed and ready to spring. Even as she watched his hand swing towards her, she didn’t think he would actually hurt her. 

Something hit her from behind and landed on her face, sliding into the side of a metal cabinet. There was a thud, a roar, a dull clang, a scuffle, then silence. Darcy lifted her throbbing head slowly and saw Steve on the far side of the lab, slumped against the wall that had stopped his trajectory when the Hulk had thrown him. His shield was stuck, one edge wedged into the floor and the other taking a deep bite out of the wall; he’d brought it up to stop the Hulk smash that had planted it there from crushing his head. On the floor next to him was Bruce, a syringe sticking out of one bare shoulder. There was a chorus of groans from around the room. 

“Oh my God, Darcy.” Jane was there, helping her to her feet. Natasha had Clint on his feet and leaning heavily on her shoulders while Tony squatted between Bruce and Steve, talking quietly to the both of them. 

“I’m fine, Jane,” Darcy gritted out, patting tenderly at the bump on the back of her head that was sluggishly leaking blood down the back of her neck. 

There was a clatter of shoes in the hall and they all looked up to see Pepper lead the charge into the wrecked lab, followed by a cadre of SHIELD agents. “It would be nice,” she said, stalking over to Tony, “if I could make it through one whole board meeting without getting called out due to an emergency.”

“Who let them in,” Tony cried, pointing at Maria Hill and all the handful of jackbooted thugs who followed her. Darcy noticed, and then tried not to notice, when see sweet-as-apple-pie Sarah had picked her way over to Steve and was asking him questions with a concerned expression. 

“There’s protocols in place for a reason, Tony,” Maria said, echoing Natasha from earlier. Natasha shot Tony a triumphant look as she and Clint limped for the door. Staff from the infirmary floor was already waiting there with a fleet of wheelchairs. Natasha secured Clint then saw him wheeled off before turning to watch the scene unfold. 

“No matter how much you huff and puff, you can’t just blow in here like you own the place,” Tony argued. “We had everything handled.”

“C’mon,” Jane said, herding Darcy for one of the waiting wheelchairs. “Let’s get you checked out before they try and rope you in for debriefing. They’ll be at this for a while.”

After her minor injuries had been attended to, Darcy lied and told Jane she was going to the bathroom before walking down the hall and into the room where Steve was being patched up. He was slouched, shirtless, on the edge of an examination table, while Sarah applied butterfly bandages to a deep gash along his temple. She waited in the doorway until Steve noticed her. 

“I think I’ve got it, thanks,” he said, laying a restraining hand on Sarah’s arm, who’d been keeping up a constant stream of chatter while she went about her work. 

“Huh?” She followed his gaze to Darcy waiting in the doorway. “Oh. Right, I’ll just give you two a minute.”

Even after Sarah left, Darcy remained in the doorway. The silence built and stretched between them. Steve sighed and looked down at his clasped hands in his lap, waiting for the lecture. She pursed her lips together, fitting the urge to yell at him. Adults didn’t yell, adults calmly discussed their feelings. She didn’t feel like an adult but she was trying very, very hard to act like one. 

Until she could find her voice, she used her hands. His head jerked up in surprise when he felt Darcy’s hands picking up where Sarah’s had left off. He watched her face while she kept her eyes on each cut and scrape, soothing it with a washcloth turning the color of rust as it picked up dirt and blood. Eventually, his eyes drifted closed as he focused only on the pressure of her hands and the occasional brush of her skin against his. 

“I’m sorry I called you an asshole,” she finally said after several minutes. His eyes opened and locked on hers. “I know you were worried about me.”

“Thank you,” he said, looking surprised at her admission. 

“It doesn’t mean you weren’t acting like one,” she added. “I know what we have is...complicated, but you’re going to need to learn to keep it to yourself.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ve got a right to be worried about you, Darce.”

“No,” she corrected him, gentle but firm, “you really don’t. You gave up that right, remember? You broke up with me.”

“I did it for your own good! Geez, after Peggy I never-”

Darcy interrupted him. “You told me you trusted Peggy to take care of herself. She wouldn’t have wanted you screwing everything up just to save her. And neither did I.”

“Yeah but Peggy could,” he trailed off, leaving his sentence incomplete as her eyes narrowed into slits.

“Peggy could what,” she asked coldly, folding her arms across his chest. His eyes tracked the way her breasts shifted under her shirt before quickly tracking back to her face. “Peggy could take care of herself? And I can’t?”

Steve groaned and swiped his hand over his face, hiding his grimace. “No, it’s not that,” he sighed. “After what happened, with the kidnapping and all, don’t you see? I did it to protect you. As long as you were with me, you were always at risk. Anyone who wanted to get to me could go through you.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “You don’t get it, Steve. Bad things happen, whether I’m with you or not. Bad things happen every day—abuse and murder and sometimes just plain bad luck. You didn’t do me any favors by breaking my heart.” She tried to keep her voice level and dispassionate as she explained this to him but, towards the end, her voice wavered, hinting at something more, an unforeseen bad thing he hadn’t been able to protect her from.

He picked up on it instantly; now it was his turn to narrow his eyes suspiciously at what went unsaid. “Darcy,” he prompted slowly. “These last few years, did something…happen?”

Darcy snorted, finding her emotional footing again. “Lots of things happened, Steve,” she retorted. “I got bangs. I grew my hair out. I pierced one of my nipples.”

One of his eyebrows went up but he was undeterred. “That’s…interesting,” his voice cracked on interesting. He coughed and recovered. “But not what I was referring to. Did something bad happen? Something I could’ve protected you from?”

Darcy paused, staring off into the space over her shoulder. Before she could stop them, snapshots of memories flashed to the surface: her first week in Tokyo, a co-worker she’d thought was a friend, a hotel room under the company’s name. Immediately after, she’d found herself a gun and a shooting range. She’d actually become a fairly competent shot in the time since.

Steve frowned as the silence lengthened before she gave her answer. Eventually, though, she forced a smile and said blithely, “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Whatever Steve’s response might’ve been, it was interrupted by Clint sticking his head through the door. “Debriefing starts in five,” he announced, quickly assessing Darcy’s proximity to Steve’s shirtlessness. His face gave away nothing, just blinked then disappeared.

Darcy finished patching Steve up. As he put his shirt back on, he waited until his face was covered and his voice muffled before saying, “I suppose you would’ve preferred to be patching Clint up.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Real subtle.”

Steve shrugged. “I saw you leave the wedding with him. And then, the other week, a storage closet.”

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Darcy said primly. “But Clint and I aren’t sleeping together.”

“No?” Steve feigned disinterest. Darcy rolled her eyes again.

“Not anymore,” she said. The _thanks to you_ was implied in her tone. She shot him a look over her shoulder. “He found the pierced nipples off putting.”

“You just mentioned the one.”

“It was a two-for-one special.”

She left the room first but he caught up to her in the hallway, laying a hand on her arm that made her slow to a stop. Jane waited for them at the end of the hall, pretending not to watch. 

“Darcy,” he said, shifting his weight nervously. With a pang, she was reminded of their first date and him working up the courage to kiss her. It must have been the stress from the day but she had an almost visceral response, her stomach clenching and her eyes stinging. Thankfully, Steve was still looking down and she had time to wipe her face blank of any emotion. 

“I know things are...complicated,” he said, echoing her assessment from earlier. “I’ll try my best to avoid shoving you into any metal cabinets in the future. And to stay out of your personal life. And to keep my worry to myself.”

Darcy forced a bright smile and touched his arm, a friendly pat-pat that was less official than a handshake but still signaled the closing of an agreement. “That’s all I ask. Friends?”

Steve stared at her for a long moment, hands still in his pocket, her hand still on his arm. Finally, he took a deep breath and looked away, giving a curt nod and echoing her question with an answer. “Friends.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of things happening in this chapter, really getting into the meat of the angst. I broke my roll from last week for a weekend trip to New York so if the pacing or tone seems off, let's blame it on that. 
> 
> This story was never meant to drag out so we're moving pretty quickly straight into the angst (slow build, you say? AINT NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT) which, hopefully will make for a more dramatic climax and conclusion. 
> 
> I am of the headcanon that, while Peggy was great (more than great; Peggy is my WCW, my OTP (no other half needed), and on par with Beyonce. I started reading Marvel fanfiction solely because of Peggy Carter) and Steve certainly loved her, it's not the same as the love he's got for Darcy. And he's lost so many people, he's terrified of losing her too. So he does dumb shit like try and "protect her" by breaking up with her. It's the first time he's been in love that has a future and he can't handle it so he shoots himself (and his future) in the foot. If he seems like a jerk, just remember he's a scared little baby (and so is Darcy) and soon they'll both realize it and be scared little babies together. He just has a lot to make up for.
> 
> As always, questions/comments/concerns are greatly appreciated.


	4. Moving On

She was getting coffee when she met him, a perfectly innocuous and classic New York introduction.

His name was Kent Griffith, a doctor home on leave from a three year stint working for Doctors Without Borders. She’d only stopped in for a coffee on her way to work but left two hours laters with her number in his phone and a pleased smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“I thought you were in Malibu,” Darcy said when she walked into her office to find Pepper sitting behind her desk.

“And I thought you were in at nine,” Pepper countered.

Darcy ducked her head in embarrassment but couldn’t hide the pleased smile leftover from her morning coffee. Pepper caught it and sat up in interest. “Oh? What’s his name?”

“Kent Griffith,” Darcy admitted, dropping into the chair across from her desk.

Pepper leaned forward, hands clasped and resting on Darcy’s desk blotter. “ _The_ Kent Griffith?”

“Yes?”

“Darcy, do you know who his family is?”

“Should I?”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Huge, old money New York family. He has brothers running top companies in every industry: media, tech, health, investments. I thought he lived in India?”

“Kenya,” Darcy corrected absentmindedly, her heart not really in the answer, her mind spinning with the implications of Pepper’s insinuations. 

“Why do you look like I just told you he’s a drug addict,” Pepper asked, picking up on Darcy’s shift in mood. 

“It’s just,” Darcy sighed, slumping in her seat. “Would it be too much to ask to meet someone normal? Someone on my level?” Pepper frowned and waited for Darcy to continue. With an aggrieved sigh, she did.

“Part of me was relieved when Steve ended things,” Darcy admitted, her voice barely louder than a squeak. “It’s terrible, but true. No relationship stays in its honeymoon phase forever and I was convinced, one day, I’d do something to screw it all up. He was so perfect and I was this messy, imperfect, painfully flawed human. 

“And now a super rich, handsome humanitarian? Is the universe just picking on me? ‘Have fun and be grateful while it lasts, Darcy, because they won’t stay with you forever?’”

Pepper had a pinched look on her voice and when she spoke, it was clear she was trying to remain calm. “I’m not going to trivialize your insecurities, Darcy,” she said in clipped, measured tones. “No one can make you believe that you’re worthwhile except you. But, for what it’s worth, I think you have it all wrong. These guys--Steve and Kent and whomever else you’ve dated that you haven’t felt worthy of--share something beyond their success: their interest in you. Do you ever think that perhaps there’s something about you that attracts successful people? You have a unique perspective and personality _because_ you are unapologetically messy and flawed. You’re refreshingly honest and fearless. It is not an insignificant combination.”

She stared Darcy down from across the desk. “I offered you a job because I see something worthwhile in you, Darcy Lewis. But you can’t do great things if, somewhere in you, you don’t believe that you are worthy of making great things happen. You are not ordinary but, if you’d like to pretend that you are, then maybe this isn’t the job for you.”

She rose and walked out from behind Darcy’s desk, giving Darcy a moment to compose herself and swipe at stinging eyes. She paused in the doorway. “Invite Kent to Tony’s fundraiser. Give him, and yourself, a chance. You deserve to be happy.”

Darcy sat in her chair for a long while after Pepper had left, stunned and contemplative. When she finally did make the move from one side of the desk to the other, she got little work done the rest of the day. Even though she’d come in late, when Pepper left for an afternoon meeting across town, Darcy did to. 

Distracted, when the elevator doors opened she tried to get off on the 46th floor, not the first, and walked right into Steve. 

“Sorry,” he said, hands catching her by the elbows to keep her from 

“We have to stop meeting like this,” she joked, hoping the words didn’t sound as stiff and awkward to his ears as they did to hers. He met her words with a smile but released her quickly, joining her on the elevator. It crawled towards the ground floor. 

“Headed out,” she asked when he boarded and didn’t punch any buttons when saw that the ground floor was already lit up. 

He nodded, eyes on the numbers above the doors signaling their descent. “I’m meeting Clint and Natasha for happy hour at a bar downtown.”

“What’s the point of happy hour if you can’t get drunk,” she quipped. 

“Sometimes it’s still nice to try,” he said with a wistfulness that made her suppress a smile. They continued their ride in silence. 

“Any plans for the weekend,” he eventually asked when the elevator slowed for a third time only to open and reveal no one. 

“Just some errands,” she shrugged. “I need some things for the new apartment and Jane is picking me up in a company car tomorrow to go to Ikea.”

“That’s right, you’re living in Brooklyn now,” he observed. “How’s life outside of the tower?”

“Inconvenient,” she admitted, “but necessary. Last time,” she hesitated then forged ahead. “Last time I just got so caught up in things here that I hardly ever got out. I don’t want to make the same mistake.”

They both contemplated this statement. She tried not to dwell on the way Steve had winced--the phrasing made it seem as if she was implicating her relationship with Steve as part of that mistake--and instead focus on how true it was. 

She _didn’t_ want to make the same mistakes from her earlier time in New York. That was why she’d left: to forge her own path separate from Jane and the Avengers. She’d been making headway with her New York Part 2 life and she wasn’t going to let old insecurities leftover from her relationship with Steve deter her from a relationship with someone new. Pepper, of course, had been right; it had only taken Darcy five years and one stern lecture to realize it. 

Steve was saying something else but Darcy was only half listening. “Of course,” she said in response to his offer to include him if she needed help assembling anything. The doors opened on the ground floor and she had her hand in her purse, fishing for her phone as they walked to the front doors together. 

“See ya, Darce,” he said, waving one hand and striking off in the opposite direction. 

As Steve walked away, she had her phone pressed to her ear, holding her breath as she listened to it ring. 

“Hi,” she said as soon as he picked up. “I know we just met but would you like to help me build furniture this weekend?”

……………………

One trip to Ikea, one afternoon spent puzzling through poorly outlined assembly instructions, six dinner and five lunch dates, and two and a half weeks of constant contact--texts, phone calls, IMs; he’d even once written her a letter and had it messengered over to her office--later, Darcy had worked up the courage to invite Kent to the annual Stark Industries fundraiser. 

“I have been to fundraisers before,” he pointed out bemusedly as she fiddled with the lapels of his jacket. “Quite a few, actually.”

“I know, I know,” she said, tugging at his bow tie to straighten it and accidentally undoing the whole thing. She set to work at retying it, her hands flying through the familiar motions; in her position as an EA, she’d had to master the skill. “It’s just, this is a big night for Pepper so I want it to go perfectly. Plus, you’re meeting all of my friends for the first time and they can be a little intimidating. I mean, I told them not to be, that they have to be very nice to you, but I think that only encouraged bad behavior. Bruce will be nice, he’s always nice. Jane might be erratic but mostly harmless. Thor’s like a brother to me so he might try and intimidate you but-”

Kent stilled her hands from retying the bow a third time. “Honey, relax.”

She did, immediately, tilting her head with a smile. “You called me honey.”

“I did,” he agreed, taking over tying the bow loose enough so that he could breathe. "Is that a problem?"

"No," she insisted. "I like it." She rested her hands on his shoulders, watching him contentedly. As nervous as she was, she was also excited for him to meet Jane and Natasha and Pepper. Everyone else? Not so much. 

When he finished, he kissed the tip of her nose before offering her his hand. “Ready to go?”

“I am,” she said, taking a deep breath and letting it out with a sigh. Outside her apartment there was a sleek black Town Car waiting to take them across the bridge and to the New York Public Library where the event was being held. 

She bounced her foot impatiently the trip across the bridge until he reached over and laid a hand on her knee. She smiled and entwined her fingers with his. It’d only been a short while but she felt herself settling into this relationship faster than any other before, with the possible exception of Steve. 

Part of her felt terrified that this relationship felt so similar to that last one but every time that old anxiety started to rise up, she’d remind herself that she was older, wiser, more in control that her last relationship. She’d loved Steve but often it felt like she was spinning out of control, drowning in her need for him. With Kent, she felt the same heady rush but also like she’d learned how to tread water. 

As they pulled up in front of the library, she leaned over and brushed her lips against his cheek. He turned to her with a smile. “What was that for,” he asked. 

“A thank you,” she said, ducking her head shyly. “I’m just really happy.”

He smiled back then leaned in and kissed her on the lips. Her hand slipped up to cup his jaw and thread through his hair. The door was opened by the valet and there was the snap of camera and flash of lights. Darcy disentangled herself with a blush and Kent climbed out first before extending his hand back to her. 

He led her up the stairs where they were at the door by Tony and Pepper who were greeting their guests. 

"That was quite an entrance," Tony proclaimed, nodding to the foot of the stairs where the cameras had caught Darcy and Kent making out in the backseat of his (rented) car. "This is supposed to be a classy affair, I won't have you ruining it with your _necking_ , Lewis."

“Ignore him," Pepper instructed, kissing Darcy's cheek. "Darcy, you look lovely." 

“You’re the one who picked out the dress, Pepper,” Darcy reminded her as Pepper had her spin and show off the form-fitting, off-the-shoulder forest green dress. It was tastefully plain and classic Pepper. It suited Darcy marvelously well. 

“My girl’s got an eye,” Tony said, hugging Pepper around the shoulders. Pepper grimaced and shrugged him off before he could muss her hair. “Speaking of,” he added, turning on Kent, “Pepper says I’m supposed to be nice to you. Says you're 'worth the effort.'” He threw air quotes around dramatically.

Kent extended his hand and introduced himself. “Kent Griffith, sir.” There was a collective eyebrow raise among their group; none of them, including Tony himself, had ever deemed Tony worthy of a sir. 

Tony was impressed despite himself; that sir made him straighten his shoulders and deepen his voice as he growled, “Take good care of our girl, son.”

Darcy rolled her eyes. “Oh my God, _Dad_ ,” she groaned, taking Kent’s arm and pulling him through the door but not before she saw Pepper dust at the shoulders of Tony’s jacket and kiss his cheek while saying, “ _I_ thought it was adorable.”

Inside, Kent went to get them drinks while Darcy looked around the room, impressed by what Tony’s money and Pepper’s good taste had been able to accomplish. She was craning her neck to follow the fabric draped from the center of the ceiling when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Steve had stepped up behind her and was watching her gape with bemusement. 

“This is amazing,” she said breathlessly, turning to him with a smile. 

“It is,” he agreed, taking in her bare shoulders, fitted waist, and everything in between. 

She looked over his shoulder and saw Kent at the bar. He caught her eye and waved. She smiled and nodded back. Steve followed her glance. 

“I see that you brought a date,” he said with a mischievous smile, echoing her words from the wedding. 

“Yes,” she agreed. “Pepper insisted. And where’s Sarah?”

“Who? Oh, my date from the wedding? I suppose she might be here somewhere. We didn’t come together; we were never dating.”

Darcy frowned. “But after the lab incident, in the infirmary,” she trailed off. 

“She’s my friend,” he said, his sharp eyes noticing every detail of her reaction. “She knew I was nervous about seeing you at the wedding when I thought you were bringing a date so she offered to join me. After the lab, she was just being a concerned friend.” 

Concerned friends didn’t ogle Steve’s muscles the way that Sarah had but far be it for Darcy to rain on Steve’s assumptions of friendship. 

“So,” Steve said, digging his hands into his pockets and dragging out the word, “is it serious?” He jerked his head over his shoulder.

Darcy bit her lip and looked back at where Kent was waiting at the bar. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I mean, it’s only been a little while but, yeah, I think it could be.”

Steve’s face didn’t fall so much as it went blank. “Oh,” he said softly. “That’s, well, I’m happy for you, I guess.” Darcy’s eyes tracked back to his face and she frowned at what she found there. “Um, if you’ll excuse me,” he said. 

He passed Kent as he approached. Kent glanced over his shoulder was he handed Darcy her drink. “Was that Captain America?”

“Um,” Darcy hedged, taking a sip of her cocktail. “Yes.”

“Cool!” Kent exclaimed. “Will you introduce me?”

“Maybe later,” she lied. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, pressing his lips to her temple. 

The night was a success on both monetary and social levels. Steve kept himself scarce, a fact that Darcy was both painfully aware of and thankful for. She wasn’t sure if it was Clint and Natasha running interference--she never saw the two assassins together; if Clint was telling a joke, Natasha was steering Steve back towards the bar, and if Natasha was charming Kent then Clint was behind the bar mixing Steve a drink that involved every alcohol present--or if Steve just didn’t want to be around her and Kent, but she wasn’t asking questions. Bruce and Kent compared notes about something science-y and Jane, for once, wasn’t whining about being out of her office. 

“This is nice, isn’t it,” Jane asked, leaning heavily against Darcy as Thor engaged Bruce and Kent in conversation. “I’m glad you decided to stay.”

“You aren’t drunk, are you,” Darcy demanded, looking down at her friend. Jane had decided that her ankles were too swollen--even though she was just barely beginning to show--to even attempt heels and was thus wearing flip flops under the skirt of her maroon ballgown. 

“Of course not,” Jane snapped. “It’s all the hormones; I’m so damn sleepy all the time. I’ve actually been averaging six to eight hours of sleep a night.”

Darcy pretended to be horrified. “Oh no,” she gasped. “What about the science?”

“Right?” Jane agreed emphatically, then giggled. “I swear this is the hormones again but, I can’t be bothered to be that upset about it.”

Darcy gave her friend another look. “Motherhood suits you, Jane,” she said quietly. 

Jane smiled blissfully. “And adulthood you, Darce,” she countered. “Kent seems great.” They both looked over at Darcy’s date. 

“He is,” Darcy agreed. 

“That’s,” Jane started to say before she jolted upright, as if shocked, and said, “Oh dear.”

“What is it?” Darcy followed her gaze and saw Steve staggering in their direction. “Is he,” she started to ask. 

“Drunk,” Natasha finished, suddenly appearing by her side. “Clint fed him the entire bar.” Clint was two steps behind Natasha and had the grace to look sheepish. “It’s only temporary, though; he’ll metabolize it soon enough.”

“But why is he metabolizing it over here,” Darcy gritted out. She stepped around Jane and past the wonder twin assassins and attempted to intercept Steve before he reached their group.

“Steve, let’s go get some air,” Darcy tried but Steve had already zeroed in on her date.

“You must be Kent,” he announced. 

“Captain America knows my name,” Kent muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Darcy. She patted his arm and took a heavy swig of her drink. “Yes, I am,” he said in a normal tone, extending his hand for Steve to shake. Steve eyed his hand until Kent, flushing, took it back. 

“What do you do for a living, _Kent_?”

“I’m a doctor,” Kent answered proudly, but his voice was lacking some of the awe he’d had when Steve had first approached. He seemed to have caught on to the air of awkwardness permeating the group. “I currently work in Kenya for Doctors Without Borders.”

“Not a well paying job, I imagine,” Steve mused. “Can’t really support a family with that kind of lifestyle, can you?” Darcy rolled her eyes. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter; your family is fairly rich, aren’t they?”

“Jesus,” Darcy groaned. He wasn’t going to ask what his intentions were with Darcy, was he?

“And what are your intentions with Darcy,” Steve scowled. 

Kent, to his credit, did not back down. He straightened his shoulders and looked Captain America dead in the eye. “To make her happy.” Darcy smiled gratefully. 

But it only got worse. “Have you two fucked yet?” Kent spluttered while Jane’s jaw dropped. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Darcy interrupted. 

“But,” Steve protested.

“No,” Darcy snapped, seizing him by the bicep and dragging him backwards and away. For a sizable man, he was very easy to manipulate. She had him out of the main hall, down a flight of stairs, and into a study carrel in no time. 

“What the hell was that,” she shouted once the door had shut behind them. Steve was leaning heavily against the desk but he wasn’t swaying as much, already starting to sober up. 

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “I got jealous.”

“Steve, we’ve been through this,” she cried. “You don’t get to be jealous.”

“Yes, I do,” he thundered. She took a step back, surprised at his sudden vehemence. “I’m still in love with you, is that what you wanted to hear?”

Darcy pressed her lips together, contemplating this information that, honestly, wasn’t much of a surprise. “Then why did you break up with me,” she asked softly. 

He looked at her and she wasn’t sure if it was all of the alcohol that Clint had given him--that would’ve surely killed a lesser human--or maybe the fact that he was tired of pretending like they were friends who had an uncomplicated history but his answer was refreshingly honest. 

“I thought I could keep you safe while keeping you close,” he admitted. “I, with you, the thought of losing you, I couldn’t get it out of my head. After you were kidnapped, after you came home, I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t be grateful to have you back because I was just imagining the next time you’d be gone. So I thought, maybe, the only way to survive, was to let you go. I never imagined that you’d leave, I didn’t-”

“What,” Darcy snorted. “You never thought I’d be brave enough to strike out on my own? You thought I’d just be content to stay in Jane’s shadow and mope around the tower for everyone to look at and pity?”

“No, I-”

“Steve, I lost all of myself to you.” Now Steve looked surprised by Darcy’s vehemence. “I was _drowning_ in how desperately I needed you. In the end, I did need saving, but it wasn’t from kidnappers or villains. It was from you. So I saved myself. I left.”

Steve looked crushed by this admission and she felt crushed saying it aloud. 

After a substantial silence, Darcy sighed and moved towards the door. “Look,” she said, hand on the doorknob, “maybe you were right all those years ago: at least there wasn’t a ring. We both got out while we still could.”

Steve opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. Nothing came out.

Darcy narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Just spit it out, Steve,” she snapped.

He sighed. “There was,” he admitted. “A ring.”

“What,” she whispered so softly that she was surprised he could even hear her.

But he could and he did. “There was always a ring, Darcy,” he said, his face a twisted expression of grief and pain, looking not unlike he’d told her that someone had died. And maybe someone--or something--had. “From three months in, I knew, so I went bought a ring. There was always a ring and I lied when I said there wasn’t.”

This shouldn’t change things. She was still with Kent, they were still broken up, they’d just gotten in a fight in a study carrel somewhere inside the New York Public Library. But with that one tiny admission, they were in a completely different place they’d been not a minute ago.

It wasn’t an admission of guilt, it wasn’t an apology for how things had ended, but it was a concession, albeit an infinitesimal one. It was a tiny crack in the wall that she’d put between them. And with that tiny crack, all the feelings from five years ago came flooding back.

“Darcy,” he whispered hoarsely, taking a step towards her. She shook her head but he persisted, whispering her name in a voice that cracked. “Darcy.”

“I can’t,” she said, tears beginning to fall. “Not again.”

“Darcy.”

And then he kissed her. 

With a hand on her hip and a hand on her jaw, he pulled her further into the room. He licked at the tears running down her cheek and she noticed, with a faraway thought, that he was crying too. She tugged impatiently at the hem of his shirt, untucking it from his pants and fumbling with the belt, while he tugged at the waist of her dress, trying to pull it lower and slip her breasts free from the top of her dress. When that proved to be too difficult--the dress was too tight--his hand went to the zipper at her side and tugged downwards, pulling the dress down with it as it loosened and slid from her body. 

By this point, she’d managed to unbuckled his belt and unbutton his pants. She slipped out of her panties, leaving herself in the black, longline lace bra she’d worn under her dress, and her heels while he shrugged out of his jacket and worked his boxers down to his knees. If this was five years ago, they might’ve taken their time, enjoyed seeing each other naked again, but there was a desperation to their movements, to make this happen before either one of them came to their senses. 

Steve solicitously helped her on to the desk and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Are you sure,” he asked briefly, cock poised at her entrance. It looked like the question pained him to ask, like he already knew her answer and knew that it would be a lie. 

Darcy hesitated. She was not but that didn’t mean she wanted it any less. 

“Darcy,” Steve prompted, ducking his head to look in her eyes, still waiting for an answer. 

She didn’t want to lie and say yes. She didn’t want to tell the truth and say no. Her answer was a very vague maybe that would definitely have made him stop. She reached out and kissed him, pulling him towards her and sliding her hips forward so that the tip of his cock nosed at the lips of her pussy. She squirmed a bit more, working him in as much as she could without his compliance before finally gave in, grabbed her hips and slid the rest of the way home. 

……………………..

After, he tried to help her zip up her dress. 

“I’ve got it,” she snapped, elbowing him aside. 

“Darcy,” he said. Her name filled the room, hanging in the air from when he’d whispered it and set this whole chain of events in motion, ghosting between them from when he’d sunk into her and she’d bit his neck and he’d gasped it. Now, an exhortation, an admonishment: don’t be like this, don’t do this, don’t ruin this. 

But she already had. She’d ruined this--whatever _this_ was--for Steve, for herself, for Kent. 

“Just stop,” she said. She took a deep breath that sounded like a sob, resting her hands on her hips as she tried to catch her breath. 

Steve came up behind her and slid the zipper up the rest of the way, kissing the back of her neck. Now she really did sob. 

“Darcy,” he said again, sounding incredulous.

“This doesn’t change anything,” she said, her voice harsh. Slipping her shoe back on, she left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, we're almost halfway there! Things are heating up just a smidge so I bumped up the rating but this story is by no means intended as smut. 
> 
> I tried SO hard to keep the angst from being overblown. I suspect I failed somewhere towards the end--I couldn't read that last bit without rolling my eyes--but then I just said 'fuck it' and gave in. 
> 
> Also, Pepper is SUCH a good life coach. 
> 
> There are two more chapters to go: a flashback and then the conclusion. Both are a bit trickier to write so expect an update sometime mid-next week. I can always be persuaded to write faster with more comments *winks so hard that the person in the next cubicle thinks I've blinded myself.* But seriously, I'm sooooo interested to see yall's reactions!


	5. Peaches

_Darcy woke up with the taste of peaches in her mouth, specifically, her mom’s peach cobbler. She made an appreciative noise as she stretched languidly before opening her eyes._

_“Good dream?” Steve was propped up on his elbow watching her wake up._

_“How do you feel about peach cobbler for dinner tonight,” she answered sleepily._

_“Just peach cobbler?” Steve asked as she snuggled closer, burying her face in the crook between his shoulder and neck. “I think it’s lacking in nutritional value but I wouldn’t say no. Why peach cobbler?”_

_“I woke up craving something sweet,” she said, nipping at the muscle of his shoulder._

_“What a coincidence,” he gasped in faux surprise, “I did too.” He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose, the underside of her chin. He rolled over her so that his hips fell between her knees and his chin centered over her chest. “But it wasn’t peach cobbler.”_

_He worked his way down her neck and took the edge of her ribbed tank top between his teeth and pulled down while she wiggled up so that it slipped under her breasts and stuck there. He kissed at the underside of her breast, stuck his tongue out and licked at the freckle on her ribs, worked his way around the flesh of her breast without once touching her nipple. He drew a circle with this tongue around her breast then blew, watching with his chin on her sternum as her nipple stood out from her skin. He grinned at his handiwork before moving on to the next one._

_When he was finished and her breath was coming faster, he frowned contemplatively and said, “Not sweet enough.”_

_She arched her back as he placed both hands on her waist and dragged them upwards, taking her shirt with them until she disentangled it from around her shoulders. He zigzagged across her torso, mouthing his way down the left side of her ribs, cutting diagonally across her stomach to her right hip, then zagging again so that his nose was over the tiny patch of hair she let remain, his hands having long ago made short work of her panties. He touched the curls with the tip of his nose before dragging it downward until it pressed at the lips of her cunt. He sniffed delicately and she squirmed, slightly embarrassed but mostly turned on; she’d never get used to Steve’s unequivocal enthusiasm for eating her out._

_“Tastes like peaches,” he said with a contented sigh after she’d come with a high pitched keen that seemed to drag on and on._

_Darcy threw her head back and laughed. Sometimes they fucked and it was hot, sometimes they made love and it was romantic, but her favorite times were these: when she was squirming and vulnerable and just_ this _side of uncomfortable and he made it worth it--with an incredible orgasm and well-timed joke--that made all of the vulnerability worth it._

_She hooked her hand behind his neck and pulled him up to her mouth for a kiss. He collapsed on top of her and they just laid like that--her naked and him in boxers--kissing lazily. Eventually, it was time for work so they took their heavy petting to the shower where he finally let her tend to the arousal tenting his underwear and they used up all the hot water._

_“Are we having anything else with our peach cobbler tonight,” Steve asked as she fixed herself a cup of coffee._

_“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Salad?”_

_“Eating a side salad and half of a tray of peach cobbler does not cancel the other out, Darce,” Steve pointed out._

_She rolled her eyes and tried again. “Chicken?” He stood on the far side of the island, smearing jam on a piece of toast. She leaned against the opposite edge of the island, wondering how he could even make jam look sexy._

_“Okay,” Steve nodded. “If you pick it up, I’ll fix it, whatever you get.”_

_She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Whatever I get?” He nodded. “What if I get chicken, Lucky Charms, and eggplant?”_

_“If you pick it up,” he repeated, “I’ll fix it, whatever you get.”_

_He looked up to find her staring at him. “You can’t just stare at people like that,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking upward, “it’s creepy.”_

_She swatted him with a nearby dishtowel. “You’d know,” she retorted before leaning across the island to kiss him._

_“I gotta go,” she announced after she pulled away nearly a minute later. She set her coffee mug in the sink and headed for the door but stopped once she got there, looking back at Steve standing there, still in his boxers, with damp hair and toast crumbs on his chin._

_“What,” he asked, his voice muffled from a mouthful of toast._

_“Nothing,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “I love you.”_

_His face broke into a grin. They’d been dating for seven months, living together for two, and they’d said ‘I love you’ before but always as part of something else: during sex, “Oh God, do that again, I love you when you do that”; in the middle of intense rounds of Mario Kart, “I swear to God if you throw another fucking banana peel you better be glad I love you”; after long missions, “I love you but if you’re ever away that long again, I’m coming after you myself.” It still felt new enough that to say it as a simple matter of fact, just because, still felt like a novelty._

_And she really meant it, with her whole heart: she loved him and their morning sex and their domestic dinner plans and their life together. She felt a sudden swell of panic that just to say “I love you” wasn’t enough to tell him how he made her feel._

_But he smiled and said, “I love you too, Darce.” Like that, she wasn’t anxious anymore. She blew him a kiss and walked out the door._

……………………..

When Darcy went back upstairs, the party was still in full swing. She stood in the doorway feeling overwhelmed, trying to catch her breath. Her eyes were stinging. 

On the dance floor, Kent was dipping Natasha but he righted her and excused himself when he spotted Darcy on the fringes of the room and made his way over. “Darcy,” he cried, kissing her on the cheek. “Where’d you disappear to?”

“I had to, I was, Steve and I were talking,” she managed to stammer. She was shaking slightly and Kent rubbed his hands up and down her bare arms to warm her up; she shivered at the touch. 

“Are you alright?” Kent’s brow furrowed in concern. 

“I’d really like to go home now,” she begged, clutching at his shirt. At some point, he’d lost his jacket. “Would you take me home? Please?” Her voice cracked on the please but she managed not to shed any tears. 

“Yeah,” he said, still confused and concerned but deeming the situation needing action, not inquisition. “Yes, of course. Let me go get my jacket, I’ll tell the others you aren’t feeling well.”

“Thank you,” she all but sobbed. He kissed her again, on the forehead, tenderly, before disappearing back into the crowd. She saw him say something Natasha, who looked her way sharply, before she turned towards the door and her back on the party. 

She was just beginning to wonder what was taking Kent so long when she was jostled from behind. She stumbled a few steps forward, her hands flying out for balance. 

A hand caught her arm and tugged her back upright. “I’m so sorry,” the stranger gushed. He snagged a napkin from a passing tray of hors d'oeuvres and patted at her arm where he'd sloshed some of his champagne. He noticed her red eyes. "Are you alright?" His tone indicated he was asking after more than the spots of alcohol on her dress.

She laughed but it was a humorless bark made to keep from crying. "I am," she said, waving aside his concern. "I just...had a run in with my past." 

The man looked over her shoulder and she followed his gaze to where Steve had just emerged through the same door she'd come through minutes before. "Not an easy run in either, I imagine," the man observed.

Darcy's spine straightened and her gaze sharpened. "Excuse me," she asked coolly, "but do I know you?" Something about the stranger looked vaguely familiar.

"No, sorry," he apologized, offering her a disarming grin and his hand to shake. "I'm Smith Richards, CEO of Clayborne International."

"You're rather young for a CEO," she admitted, taking the proffered hand to hide her recognition. "I'm Darcy Lewis."

"A pleasure Miss Lewis," he all but purred, his smile spreading and his hand gripping hers for too long. Between his tone and his persistent handshake she had the feeling that he knew her better than he was letting on. 

"Well," she said, giving a pointed glance to where his hand still held hers. He didn't let go, just tilted his head and continue to smile, like he'd heard an amusing joke. "I should be going, my date's waiting with my coat."

He finally released her hand. "Too warm for a coat," he observed. "Does your past give you chills too?" Darcy's smile faltered but she had it back in place in seconds. 

"You wouldn't be the same Ms. Lewis from Stark Industries who's been trying to set up a meeting with my office for the last three weeks, would you?" This time, Darcy's smile didn't falter; she'd met bullies in the corporate world before and, one of her values as an assistant, was her inability to be intimidated.

"One and the same," she replied, beaming falsely. "I just wanted to welcome you to SI and-"

"And suss out my interest in your company," he interrupted with a quirked eyebrow.

"-and enjoy a nice meal," she finished firmly. She hated being interrupted, even when the person interrupting her didn't already give her the creeps. 

"Well, Ms Lewis," he said, stepping in too close, "I'd love to get lunch sometime but it seems to me you have your hands full with dates. As for my intentions, I can personally promise that they're nothing to worry your pretty little head over." 

Darcy's jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed. She wanted to say something, to keep him talking and saying more about his intentions, but she felt frozen by his thinly veiled accusations. Before she could even so much as excuse herself, however, he'd spotted someone over her shoulder, his face lighting up with recognition. "Kent," he called out, waving Darcy's date over. 

Kent appeared next to them and, rather than extending his hand to shake, he embraced the CEO. "Smith," he cried while Darcy blanched. "I didn't know you were here. Darcy, this is my brother, Smith Richards. Smith, this is Darcy, my girlfriend. She works for SI."

"Brother," Darcy inquired, keeping her tone light and free from cracks.

To Darcy, Smith directed a pointed smile and the correction, "Well, half-brother." To Kent, he explained, "I already know Ms. Lewis. I've recently acquired some shares in your girlfriend's company. She was kind enough to issue me a lunch invitation I’ve yet to accept. I’ll be sure to take advantage of it now that I know you two are dating.” 

Darcy forced a smile. “I’ll be sure to contact your office this week,” she lied. 

Kent watched their exchange with a pleased smile. “Sorry to run, Smith, but Darcy isn’t feeling well so I’m going to get her home. Tell Lucy I’ll be by on Saturday.” Smith nodded and let them leave. 

With a hand on her back, Kent led Darcy away from his half-brother and down the stairs. While he passed the valet their ticket, Darcy glanced over her shoulder and found Smith watching them leave. When he noticed her looking, he lifted his glass in a mocking salute and headed back inside. 

 

……………………..

 

_Over the noise of the shower, Darcy heard the front door shut. "Steve," she called out, her voice cracking with panic. Seconds later, his head poked through the bathroom door._

_"It's me, sweetheart," he assured, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. She couldn't handle open doors anymore. He walked over to the shower while she blinked up at him from behind the shower curtain. Slowly, so that she had enough time to brace herself, he reached out and touched her cheek. "It's just me," he promised._

_She breathed a heavy sigh of relief and closed her eyes, catching the tears on her eyelashes before they could fall. "Good," she said, both to herself and him. "You're home, I'm glad."_

_"Can I join you," he asked softly, so softly it was almost a whisper, but still she flinched like he'd shouted the question._

_"I, I," she stammered but he was already apologizing._

_"I'm sorry," he insisted, hands up as if defending himself. "I'm sorry, you're right, you said you needed time. I shouldn't have asked."_

_"No it's not, you can," she stammered, trying to force the words, but he was tripping over his feet and out the door before she could finish her sentence._

_After her shower, she found him sitting at their oft used dining room table. There was chicken and peach cobbler on the counter. Her forehead creased and, for the tenth time today, she felt like her heart was breaking._

_"Did you make it down to medical today," he asked, eyes on his plate as she spooned some peach cobbler into a bowl. He looked up when she didn't answer, picking at her cobbler with a fork and avoiding eye contact._

_"Darce," he sighed._

_"I made it to the elevator," she countered brightly. "It didn't even take me an hour. You should've seen me, I walked right out of here and down the hall and pushed the button."_

_"And then," he prompted._

_"And then I ran like a little kid right back to our apartment," she said in that same bright tone, trying to make it sound funnier than it did._

_She stiffened before she even heard the sigh; she knew him that well to know it was coming._

_"You_ have _to see the doctor, Darce," he said, trying and failing to keep the disappointment out of his voice._

_"Would you," she prompted, her tone hard. "If you were me, would you go see a doctor? Because I seem to remember you having nightmares for months and refusing to see someone about it."_

_"I'm a soldier," he argued._

_“And I’m not,” she agreed, her tone conveying defeat. If she_ had _been a soldier, maybe she would’ve been able to do more. If she_ had _been a soldier, maybe she could’ve fought back. If she_ had _been a soldier, maybe she wouldn’t feel this helpless._

_Steve sighed again. They stood on opposite ends of the room: him at the table, glaring at his chicken, and her at the kitchen counter, picking at her cobbler. It felt like more than furniture and dinner choices separated them._

_He should’ve gone to her and she should’ve let him but they’d been through this dance too many times for it to feel sincere. He’d get up, try to take her in his arms, she would flinch and stiffen, counting the seconds until she could pull away without hurting his feelings, and, when she failed to relax into his embrace, he would sigh and let her go. Hurt feelings, all around. It was just easier to keep their distance._

_Still, she did the best she could do. “I love you, Steve,” Darcy whispered. It sounded like a consolation prize: I’m sorry things are so fucked up but also, here’s my love._

_Now Steve was the one who flinched, his eyes wincing as if the statement pained him. “I know,” he said._ That’s the problem. __

_They stayed like that for another twenty minutes, trapped in their love and waiting for the nightmare to end and things to get easier._

_It never did._

……………………..

“What do you know about Claybourne International that you’re not telling me,” Darcy asked. 

“What do you mean,” Pepper asked, tucking her feet underneath her. They were working through lunch and Darcy had ordered them takeout. Pepper was on the couch in the corner of her office and Darcy sat across from her with a notepad poised on her knee as they went over Pepper’s itinerary for her upcoming business trip to Europe. They’d finished going over the itinerary and had returned to their salads.

“Well, you knew that Kent’s brothers had top positions in industries across the board but you didn’t think it relevant to mention that one of those brothers was the CEO of Claybourne International?”

Pepper looked up from where she was picking out the nuts in her salad. “What?!”

Darcy nodded, feeling reassured by Pepper’s reaction. At least she knew she wasn’t overreacting. She hadn’t talked to Kent since the fundraiser, partly from her own guilty and partly because she was worried about what _he_ might be hiding as well. “I met him at the fundraiser. It’s his half-brother’s company.” 

“Well,” Pepper said, pressing her lips together. “That certainly is an unexpected turn of events. Do you think, is it possible, that Kent started dating you for a reason?” She looked embarrassed that she even had to ask. 

Darcy’s chin trembled. “I’m hoping that it’s not,” she admitted. 

“Okay, okay,” Pepper said, untucking her feet and moving to the seat next to Darcy so that she could lay a reassuring hand on her arm. “Let’s think about this rationally, no jumping to conclusions. What do we know about the company?”

“It’s an international media firm,” Darcy answered promptly, the recitation of facts giving her firm ground to stand on. “Mostly print but some television networks in Europe and Asia.”

“Right,” Pepper agreed, tapping her chin as she combed through her own knowledge on the matter. “So Kent has three brothers, or rather, he was three other brothers with the Griffith name. Now that I think about, Smith must be from his mother’s first marriage. The oldest, Jack Griffith, founded his own tech company. Still small, but lots of promise. And there’s Peter, he has his own non-profit that supports clinics in developing countries. Kent’s twin, Blake, is being groomed to take over his uncle’s investment firm. 

“It could be a redirect,” she suggested. “Claybourne buying up stock, that’s an investment firm move; Smith could be acting with Blake’s experience and money. Jack has big ambitions for his company. He’d benefit from the Stark influence. Maybe it’s a family affair?” 

Darcy pushed aside the thought that it involved the _entire_ family, Kent included. “But Stark Industries is solvent,” she argued. “Making a move on us would be a waste of their money.”

“Yes, now,” Pepper agreed. “But if something were to happen in the future, they’d be poised to make a move.”

“Is something going to happen in the future?”

"Not that I know of," Pepper answered with a frown. "But we can't know the future for sure. I mean, we've been through pretty much everything and we're still making a profit."

Darcy leaned back, thinking it over. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw movement. A temp had entered the room with the mail cart and was placing Pepper’s mail on the corner of her desk. Pepper smiled and waved at the young man and waited until he’d left to resume their conversation. 

Normally Pepper’s mail was delivered to Martha’s desk, who would then open and sort it in order of importance. No one just waltzed into Pepper’s office like that. 

“Is Martha not at her desk,” Darcy asked with a frown while Pepper went back to picking out ingredients from her salad. 

"No,” Pepper answered around a mouthful of lettuce. “She wasn't feeling well so she went home after lunch. Why?"

"No reason,” Darcy answered. “I’ll work from her desk today. If she’s out, there’s no one to stop people from walking in off the street.” 

Pepper snorted. "Except for the state of the art security system. Nobody's going to just walk in off the street."

Darcy humored her with a smile. "Well, at the very least, someone needs to keep Tony from interrupting just because he's bored." Pepper rolled her eyes as Darcy collected her things. 

“Darce,” Pepper called after her. Darcy paused by the door. “This Kent thing? I’m sure there’s an explanation. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Darcy returned Pepper’s smile even though she felt guilty for lying: just because Kent probably wasn’t involved in whatever his brothers were up to didn’t mean that Darcy didn’t have cause to worry about their relationship. 

……………………..

_“It’s so good to see you, even if it is in here,” Jane started by saying._

_“It’s cozy,” Darcy argued._

_“No, Darcy,” Jane countered firmly, “a studio apartment is cozy. A quilt from your grandmother is cozy. Your favorite pair of sweatpants are cozy. This is a closet.”_

_“It’s bigger than some apartments,” Darcy argued._

_“It’s still a closet,” Jane insisted. “Can’t we have this conversation somewhere else?”_

_Darcy looked down at her feet. “I, I can’t,” she stammered._

_Jane’s face softened and she sank down to her knees next to Darcy. “Oh Darce,” she sighed. “Is that why you didn’t meet me downstairs?”_

_“I haven’t left the apartment in weeks, Jane,” Darcy snorted. “You really thought it was a good idea to get coffee around the corner.”_

_“Yes,” Jane argued, “I did! You need to get out! Darcy, I know what happened was terrible but you’ve got to-”_

_“What, Jane,” Darcy snapped coldly. “Get over it?”_

_Darcy didn’t need the closet light on to know that Jane was blushing. “No,” Jane retorted in a tone that said_ yes _. “I just, think, maybe, it’d help if you saw a doctor.”_

_Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “Have you been talking to Steve?”_

_“No,” Jane squeaked._ Yes _. “But if I was, we’d be on the same page. You’re not going to get better if you don’t-”_

_“Maybe I won’t,” Darcy shouted, scrambling to her feet and hitting her head on one of the closet shelves. “Ah, damn it.” She fumbled with the door knob and the two of them spilled out into the bedroom._

_“What’s that supposed to mean,” Jane asked._

_“Maybe,” Darcy’s voice cracked and she lost some of her indignation. “Maybe I won’t get better.”_

_“Don’t say that, you can’t-”_

_“Jane,” Darcy interrupted. “It’s been_ months _. Steve isn’t even sleeping in here anymore because, if he does, I wake up with nightmares. I can’t, he can’t, I won’t let him touch me. If he could, I know he'd fix me himself. It, it feels like too much pressure, him wanting me to be better and me not being better. It’s like it’d almost be easier if he was gone.”_

_“Darcy, I think,” Jane started to argue but Darcy held up a hand for her to stop talking. There was a creak in the hallway but, when Darcy darted to the door and looked out, no one was there._

_Instead of feeling reassured by this, Darcy started to panic. It was happening again, her kidnapping, they were here, they'd come for her. Jane had let herself in but she hadn't probably locked all of the locks on the front door like Darcy always did, or walked the perimeter of the room three times, checking behind curtains and under furniture. Her heart started to race as she stumbled backwards until her knees hit the bed. “Ch-check the apartment,” Darcy gasped, her lungs burning as she took faster and faster breaths. “I-I-I thought maybe someone was, oh my God.” She couldn’t stop the panic from washing over her, filling her lungs, squeezing her heart, blurring her vision._

_Jane, used to the panic attacks, ran out immediately, flitting from room to room, shutting doors and checking locks. When she returned to the bedroom, Darcy was back on the floor of the closet, arms around her knees._

_"It's okay," Jane promised, "no one was there." Darcy nodded and kept rocking back and forth. "Oh Darce," she sighed. “You have to see the doctor.”_

_Slowly, Darcy pulled herself back together. Even though her heart was still racing and she felt like she might throw up, she stood up and stepped out of the closet. "I'm fine," she lied. "It was just a...they hardly ever happen anymore. I'm going to be fine, there's no need to see a doctor."_

……………………

 

"Pepper, I'm going home for the day. Do you need anything else before I leave? What're you doing here so, oh." 

Darcy stopped talking when she saw Pepper sitting at her desk, the temp from earlier beside her with a gun to her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In previous chapters, it was mentioned that Steve and Darcy broke up a month after the kidnapping. I've gone back and amended my previous statement, it was more like four months. 
> 
> In case the flashbacks were confusing, the first was from before she was kidnapped, the others were from after. The chapter was meant to highlight how happy they used to be versus the state they were in when things ended, maybe shedding a bit of light on why Steve ended things (beyond his pathetic excuses). Hopefully, this chapter continues with the trend of keeping things messy.
> 
> As always, I love to hear your thoughts and reactions!


	6. A Conclusion

“If you’re going to mope around my lab, you can at least be useful,” Tony scolded. “Come lift this car.” He kicked his feet some and rolled himself back under car he was playing with. 

“You have machines to do that,” Steve pointed out but he went over anyway and lifted the car so that Tony could roll further underneath. 

“Sure,” Tony agreed, his voice muffled as he banged on something with a wrench. “But I want you to feel valued. Beside, if I asked you what I’m going to ask you, you’d just walk away. This way, you’ll be forced to respond or drop a car on my head and kill your best friend.”

“You’re not my best friend,” Steve gritted out, more from annoyance than exertion. 

“Good, because you’re not my best friend either,” Tony replied jovially. “If you were, you would’ve already told me and I wouldn’t have to ask what happened between you and Darcy at my fundraiser.” The car lowered a few inches. “Jesus! Watch it!”

“Nothing happened,” Steve lied. “And if it had, it’s none of your business.”

“True,” Tony agreed again. It has hard to make Tony feel guilty about anything when he was constantly agreeing with you. “But Pepper’s worried. We’re tag-teaming, I’ve got you and she’s got Darcy. Though, if we’re being honest, I feel like I got the raw end of the deal.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Pepper wouldn’t,” he argued. “She respects other people’s privacy.”

“Fine, fine,” Tony acquiesced. “I’m a nosy bastard. But it was _my_ party; you have to tell me what happened.”

Steve’s response was cut off by Jarvis, interrupting with a message for Tony. “Sir, there is a Benson situation in Ms. Potts’ office.”

“What,” Tony yelped. There was a bang and he scrambled out from underneath the car, rubbing his forehead. 

“A Benson situation,” Jarvis repeated. He wasn’t programmed to express emotion but there was an urgency to his tone that Steve picked up on immediately. If he needed more proof, Tony was already running for the door. 

“What’s going on,” Steve shouted as he ran after Tony. He caught up to him at the elevator, already punching buttons for an override code that shot them to the floor that Pepper’s office was on. 

“Active gunman,” Tony explained briefly, bracing himself against the wall as the elevator shot up. “Benson situation, from the time when I was 13 and I was shot at by a Nigel Benson. There’s a man with a gun in Pepper’s office.”

Steve’s heart dropped faster than the elevator. “But you don’t have your suit,” he pointed out.

“There’s no time,” Tony insisted. “Jarvis, do we know who the shooter is? What he wants? Is there anyone else on the floor?”

“All personnel on that floor have left for the day,” Jarvis explained. Steve breathed a sigh of relief. “Except for Ms. Lewis.” Steve lunged for the wall to keep from falling down. Tony shot him a sympathetic look. “The gunman’s motives are unclear. He’s made no mention of demands. There is limited footage of the man but it appears he’s a recent employee. Reinforcements are on their way, sir.”

The elevator doors opened. “Wait.” Steve caught Tony’s arm before he could charge off to the rescue. “What’s the plan here,” he whispered. 

“The plan,” Tony repeated incredulously. “We stop him from shooting Pepper.”

“You still don’t have your suit,” Steve reminded him. 

“And you don’t have your shield,” Tony countered. “You’re going to let that stop you if Darcy’s in danger?”

At Darcy’s name, Steve felt a surge of adrenaline urging him to charge in regardless of consequence. Still, he laid a restraining hand on his friend’s arm. “It’s one thing to risk our own lives,” he said, “but if we charge in there without a plan, someone could get shot.”

Tony scowled. “Fine,” he snapped. “What do you suggest?”

“We still go in,” Steve reassured him, “just cautiously.”

Steve took the lead, creeping forward slowly and silently. Tony snorted. “This is your big plan,” he hissed. “I’ve seen grandmas move faster.” 

“I swear to _God_ , Tony,” Steve growled but Tony had already cut around him and was running down the hall. As Steve raced after him, he saw up ahead where the door to Pepper’s office was half open and heard muffled voices. Suddenly, Tony stopped so abruptly that Steve ran into him, knocking him forward several more feet and into the room. The door swung open, hitting the wall with a bang that made them all flinch. 

“Don’t come any closer,” the temp shouted. He had one arm around Pepper’s neck and across her shoulders while the other waved the gun. Pepper winced when his flailing weapon caught her on the temple but, other than that, she only looked mildly concerned. 

Tony held his hand out placatingly. “Calm down,” he soothed, “we can sort this out. What’s your name, kid? What are you after? Money? I’ve got loads of money! Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“Tony,” Steve hissed. He noticed the way the gunman’s finger twitched at the sound of Tony’s offer. “Stop talking.” His own eyes cast sideways to where Darcy stood, off to the side of the door. He frowned as she inched closer to the credenza along the wall. She caught his eye and shook her head, encouraging him to look away. 

Automatically, it clicked: she had a plan. And just as quickly as it clicked, he felt the urge to go to her anyway, to step in front of her and shield her with his body, scoop her up and carry her to safety. His hands clenched as her stare became pointed. She’d stopped moving and was waiting to see if he’d dive in front of her again and shove her into a filing cabinet or be patient and let her handle this. It went against every fiber of his being but he looked away. 

Tony, idiotically, was still talking. Only, instead of exhortations, he’d turned to threats. “I don’t know who you think you are,” he was saying. 

Steve took a step towards him and away from Darcy. “Tony,” he warned. 

It was the wrong move. The sound of the hammer being pulled made Steve’s heart stop. The sound of a shot being fired seconds later made Steve keen like the bullet had torn through _his_ skull. His eyes closed--he might’ve been a supposed superhero but he couldn’t handle looking at the scene in front of him--until he heard Pepper scream. His eyes flew open. 

The temp had disappeared. Or rather, he’d been displaced: flat on his back with a hole in his head and his brain matter splattered across the glass that the bullet was wedged in. 

Pepper had stumbled a few feet away and was half-crouched, hanging on to the edge of her desk support. There was a tiny splash of blood across the left side of her face. She looked as disheveled as Steve had ever seen her. 

His gut twisted with fear, slowly he turned his head to look for Darcy. She stood next to an open drawer of the credenza, feet planted, with a gun in her hand. 

There was a collective pause as everyone processed what had just happened. And then, a second later, Tony was reaching for Pepper and Steve was coming for Darcy. He was within inches of touching her when she found her voice.

“Stop,” Darcy commanded, her voice shrill, her hands flying out. “Just, don’t, don’t touch me.”

Everyone froze. The only sound in the room was Pepper taking deep, gasping breaths. Tony paused, half-bent to scoop her up. Steve’s hands came back up, using the same placating gesture he’d had when the temp had a gun to Pepper’s temple.

“Okay,” he said, his voice gentle but his face pinched. “We’ll just give you a minute. No one’s going to touch you but maybe you should put down the gun.”

Darcy looked down to where the gun was still shaking in her grasp. As she looked at it, the shaking got worse until she could barely hold on. The gun slipped from her grasp and tumbled for the ground. She winced in preparation for the clatter it would make but Steve was there, catching it before it hit the ground.

When he straightened, efficiently tucking the gun behind him into the waistband of his pants, he still wasn’t touching her but he was very close. The world unfroze as agents stormed in and started handling things--checking the dead man for a pulse, taking Pepper down to the medical floor to be looked over, asking Tony questions that prompted him to shout, “I don’t know why you’re asking me this! Why can’t I go with Pepper? Where are you taking her?”--but Steve stood between Darcy and the action, shielding, but not touching, her.

“Are you okay,” he asked quietly. His hands hovered, nervously roving the air around her, checking her over as best he could while keeping his distance.

“I,” she stammered. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. His scent reassured her, his closeness grounded her. She opened her eyes and gave him a shaky smile. “I am, I’m just,” she trailed off, looking down and to the left at the blood pooling there.

“Overwhelmed,” he supplied. “It’s a lot. You’re in shock.”

“Shock, yes,” Darcy repeated. His words made sense: she felt like she’d been shocked. Her skin tingled with electricity, sharp pricks that made her wince and twitch. She’d panicked when she’d seen him coming to touch her, afraid if anyone touched her overly sensitive skin, she’d scream.

“Can I, would it be, are you okay?” he asked again.

She understood what he was asking. Slowly, she made the first move, reaching out to lay her hand in the middle of his chest, slightly to the left so she could feel the way his heart was racing under her palm. His arms went around her back, folding her arm between them as he pulled her body against his. Her ear was to his chest as she heard him take several deep breaths that shuddered and shook nervously as they moved into his lungs. 

“God, Darcy,” he breathed into her hair. “I thought…”

He didn’t finish his sentence but she understood the sentiment. “I know,” she whispered as she wiggled her arm out from between them and wrapped both of her arms around his back. “I thought so too.” He took advantage of the extra space to squeeze her even closer.

“Ma’m.” There was an agent at Steve’s elbow interrupting their moment. “We’re going to need you to come with us. You’ll need to be debriefed.” 

Reluctantly, Steve released her. She followed the agent but hesitated at the door. 

“I’ll find you when I’m through?” she said. His heart in his throat, he nodded and she smiled briefly before stepping through the door. 

…………………….. 

“For the last time, Jane,” Darcy snapped impatiently, “I am _fine_. And even if I wasn’t, what good would taking my temperature do. Aren’t you supposed to be a doctor? When was the last time anyone ever had a fever from being traumatized.”

After debriefing, the agents had released Darcy into Jane’s custody, who’d insisted on a full medical eval. After the eval, Darcy had been hoping one of Tony’s drivers would take her home to her apartment but Jane had thrown a fit and now Darcy was having a sleepover at the Odinson residence. 

Jane snatched her hand back and sat down with a scowl. “I’m not that kind of doctor as you very well know,” she answered huffily. “I’m just worried about you. I have a right to be worried about you.”

Darcy opened her mouth to argue with the familiar words but closed it again with a smile. “Yes,” she agreed. “You have a right to be worried about me. But I really am fine. I think I’ve been through enough to know when I can and can’t handle things. I’m shaken up, sure, but I’m handling it.” Jane’s brow furrowed and her chin wobbled. “Oh, don’t cry,” Darcy admonished, flapping her hands. “You can’t cry! Then I’ll cry! Why are you crying?”

“I’m just so, so happy that you’re okay,” Jane sniffed, reaching over and taking Darcy’s hands. “And I believe you: you _are_ handling this. If this was five years ago, I wouldn’t believe you when you say that you’re fine but you’re so much stronger than any of us ever imagined and you _are_ fine.” Darcy smiled and squeezed Jane’s hand but Jane wasn’t finished. 

She took a deep breath and continued. “When you were kidnapped, I know that was a rough time for you, but you weren’t the only one who lost something. While you were gone, after you got back, Steve made himself sick with worry. He wasn’t eating, he wasn’t sleeping. I barely went into my lab. Tony got in a fight with the head of the CIA for not doing enough to find you; he actually punched the guy and then he was put on trial for assault. 

“Anyways, we all moved forward, obviously, but we’ve all been waiting for the day that you would come home, not just physically like when they found you in that cell, but _home_ like you are now, sitting here with me, shaken up but handling things.” Here she started to get choked up. “I just never thought, I started to wonder if it was even possible. And you’re back and you’re you and I just don’t want you leave again.”

Darcy closed her eyes and, for the first time, felt a twinge guilt over leaving. She wouldn’t go back and do things any differently--she would still leave, she would still choose saving herself over staying for the others--but she did wish that she hadn’t stayed gone so long or kept in better touch. 

“I’m back,” Darcy promised. “I’m shaken up but I’m handling things. I’m fine and I’m home.”

Jane took a deep breath. “Good,” she said with a decisive nod. “Now how about some ice cream?”

“Finally,” Darcy cried in relief. “I get the invalid treatment I’ve been waiting for! Extra cherries for me, please!”

Jane rolled her eyes and headed for the kitchen to fix them both bowls. A knock at the door caught her halfway to the kitchen and she changed course. “Were you expecting someone,” Jane asked as she reached for the doorknob. Darcy’s eyes widened as she realized who it must be and, in a moment of panic that she wasn’t particularly proud of, rolled up and over the back of the couch and hid behind the furniture. 

“Hi Steve,” Darcy heard Jane say. “Darcy’s behind the couch.” Darcy winced. “We’re all out of fudge,” Jane announced, stepping out into the hallway as Steve stepped in to the apartment. “I’m just going to run down to the kitchens and get some more.”

The door clicked shut and the two of them were left alone in the apartment. Darcy closed her eyes, summoned her courage, then stood up. “Hi Steve,” she said faintly. 

His was still standing by the door. “You never came to find me,” he announced, more statement than accusation but she felt a twinge of guilt. 

“Right,” she stammered, “I, um, was abducted; Jane dragged me off to medical. I’m fine by the way, not even a scratch.” 

“Tony wanted me to tell you: Natasha did some digging and traced the temp back to the CEO of Claybourne Industries. The temp was supposed to make the shooting look random, plummet the stock prices, send the company into a tailspin. Tony’s already bought your building in Brooklyn and is planning a surprise party for later this week.” 

Darcy rolled her eyes. “You guys save the world all the time and never expect to get apartments or surprise parties.”

“But this isn’t the world,” Steve pointed. “It’s Pepper.” From his tone, it was obvious that he didn’t think Tony was going overboard. 

There was silence and Steve took a step further into the room. She expected him to lecture her or maybe hug her again or say something emotional but the next words out of his mouth were, “Where the hell did you learn to shoot like that?”

Darcy fiddled with the edge of the afghan she’d abandoned in her tumble over the back of the couch. “Tokyo,” she answered. “I spent the majority of my time as the only woman in the company of powerful men. It made sense that I should be able to protect myself if the need arose.”

“And did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Ever have to protect yourself?”

Darcy watched the way his fists clenched as he asked the question. She considered lying to protect his feelings, to keep him from worrying unnecessarily, but she’d been down that road before and it hadn’t done her any favors. She lifted her chin. “A few times,” she said. 

“So today wasn’t the first time that you’ve shot someone?”

“No,” she said with a small laugh, “it was. I didn’t just go around putting holes in powerful Japanese businessmen, Steve. Sometimes, all it takes to deter someone is impress upon them that you’re willing to shoot them and they suddenly remember their manners.”

Steve’s lips pressed together in a tight line. He had slowly inched further into the room and now had a death grip on the back of an armchair. “I know you said that I had no right but-”

“It’s okay,” Darcy said softly. 

Steve looked up. “What?”

“It’s okay,” she repeated. “If you want to be worried. I know what I said before but I’m saying now that I get it.”

“What changed?”

“I shot a guy today,” she announced. “And I’m fine.” 

Steve frowned. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Darcy took a deep breath. “Steve, when we first started dating, you, for reasons I could not fathom, chose me. And, when I accepted your dinner date and the title of girlfriend and the offer to move in, I chose you. But, after I was kidnapped, I felt like that power to choose was taken away from me: I _needed_ you so badly, I wasn’t choosing you. The balance of power was so off kilter and I felt it acutely. 

“I know, if you could’ve, you would’ve saved me from everything that was going on in my head--taken all of the depression and anxiety and fear and carried it yourself. I think, on some level, I wanted that too. I didn’t think that I could do it on my own, or at all. I thought I needed you to save me. But that wasn’t fair, to me or to you. What I really needed was to save myself. What you did, breaking up with me, it doesn’t seem that way but it made me fix myself.

“I know you heard what I said to Jane that day in the apartment. After you ended things, Tony came to me with the security footage from outside our apartment, showing you coming in and then leaving seconds later. I knew that you heard me but I didn’t say anything. 

“I had to face the world without you or Jane to support me. I had to learn I was strong in my own right. And after today, I know that I am. I can survive the bad things that happen and I can protect myself. I couldn’t have done that with you so I had to do it without you.”

Steve’s jaw clenched. “So you’re saying you don’t need anyone? That it doesn’t matter that Jane or I or anyone else cares about you and wants to protect you?”

Darcy hurried around the couch and took his hands to keep him breaking Jane’s furniture. “No, no, no,” she said hurriedly. “What I mean is that I needed to figure some things out. I want to be with you because I chose to, not because I’m too afraid to be without you. Does that make sense?”

Steve was still frowning. “So, does that mean, you want to be with me?”

She bit her lip and looked down, suddenly aware of his hands in hers and how close they were standing. “I don’t think we can go back to where we were,” she admitted. “I’ve changed a lot, I’m not the same girl you started dating. But I think, maybe, we could start over.”

He dropped her hands and scooped her up. She shrieked in surprise but latched her legs around his waist as he spun them in a brief circle then stopped abruptly, propping her butt on the back seat of the armchair so that he could kiss her. She clung to him for balance, squeezing her legs and pressing her hips against his, as his tongue slipped into her mouth. 

Abruptly, she pulled back. “Wait,” she said while his lips kissed at empty air. “We can’t do it like this, not again.”

“You’re still with Kent?” He set her down but kept his hands on her waist. 

“I am,” she admitted. “I haven’t been able to face him since the fundraiser.”

Steve dropped his hands and took a step back. “And what are you going to tell him?”

“Definitely not that I had sex while we were together,” she retorted, rolling her eyes. “I don’t think hurting him will do any good besides clearing my conscious. But he does deserve a face-to-face explanation. I feel bad about ending things but I think maybe he never had a fair shot.” And, even if he’d had no involvement, she didn’t think she’d be able to date someone who’s brother had tried to murder her boss. 

Steve’s hands flexed and reached halfway out, like he wanted to scoop her up again and she fought the urge to let him. But they’d messed up enough things and waited long enough that a little while longer wouldn’t hurt. 

“So,” Steve trailed off. “I’ll just go?”

“I think it’d be best,” she admitted. She definitely did not trust herself around him. 

He opened the door and she saw him out, holding on to the door knob with one hand so she wouldn’t trail after him to the elevator and down to his floor. 

“Darcy,” he said, turning and taking one big step back towards the apartment so he was firmly in her space and towering over her. 

“Mmmhmm,” she nodded, practically bubbling over with hopeful happiness. 

He leaned down slowly so she saw the kiss coming and still made no move to stop it. He pressed his lips to hers but it was chaste, barely a press of his lips against hers and then he was gone. But more than that, it was a promise. Their kiss at the fundraiser was like a lit match to gasoline, burning up five years’ worth of regret and anger. Their kiss on the other side of the apartment, just five minutes ago, was like coming home, seeing the old Darcy & Steve again. But this kiss was different: it was a foundation for all the kisses and all of the sex and all of the moments and the fights and the falling in love again that would come with a fresh start. 

Steve pulled back just far enough that his lips hovered over hers and she could feel his smile. She echoed the sentiment with a dopey grin of her own. He pressed a second, quick kiss to her nose, then touched his forehead to hers. 

“I’m going to wait,” he promised, "until you do what you need to do but I had to kiss you good night because, doll, five years is just too damn long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all, folks! Personally, I like an open ending where you get to supply the conclusion of your choice. Maybe she follows him back to his apartment, maybe they don't see one another for the week, giving the tension ample time to build. Maybe he has the ring in his pocket and slips it on her finger right after the credits close. Maybe Kent was always in on the scheme and goes nuts when Darcy tries to end things. WHO KNOWS?! Definitely not me and I wrote the damn thing. 
> 
> Fun Fact: I actually had this chapter mostly finished three days ago, I just couldn’t bear to tie it all together and be finished.
> 
> Another fun fact: I had this ending written (at least the shooting part) as many as three months ago. I knew I wanted to write a fanfic with this general plot so I wrote down all of my ideas in a note on my iPhone and would reread it every so often until a day in June when I was like, 'Yep, it's time.' And then less than a month later here we are at the end!
> 
> I’ve had so much fun writing this and appreciate all the comments and readers who’ve tagged along for this little journey. Again, my intention was always to make this a messy fic so I hope I did an acceptable job of tidying things up in the end. Let me know if there's anything I left out or you have any lingering questions or thoughts. I've sincerely enjoyed the ride, y'all.


End file.
